Down By the Water
by LoverGurrl411
Summary: TRORY Starts out at the infamous kiss at the party. AU after the kiss. NOT CLICHE.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – I own nothing.

A.N. – This story starts out at the infamous first kiss between Rory and Tristan. BTW, I'm not sure whether to put this under M or T so if anyone would tell me where it fits better, I'd be much obliged. Enjoy!

Down By the Water

Chapter 1 – Blue Eyed Liar

Rory felt Tristan's lips pressed against hers. She felt the electricity inside of her stomach and the heat rush to her stomach. Rory allowed herself to feel a bit more, let her lips slide against his.

'What was she doing? What kind of person allowed this?' Rory's mind ranted at her for the five seconds that her lips molded with Tristan's…and then tears filled her eyes.

Tristan went to speak as their lips went their separate ways, but Rory couldn't let him talk. She didn't want him to talk because she knew that the minute words left him she would bolt for the door. She would run, because guilt was rushing at her like wave after wave in the middle of the Atlantic.

So she looked him in the eyes as tears leaked out of her and quickly shook her head at him 'no'. He listened and instead decided to play some piano music…a real piece that time.

They stayed in the room for another hour before Louise came into the room and declared that Rory should get home soon if she didn't want to get in trouble.

Rory stood up and went for the door, then hesitated. She paused because she wanted to say so many things and yet couldn't bring herself to wish she wasn't different – more assertive and aggressive – so that she could just kiss him again instead of standing there, with nothing she had the courage to say.

"Keep your window open tonight" Tristan's voice broke the silence in the room, and Rory turned around so fast that she almost gave herself whiplash. She could read the uncertainty in the depths of his eyes. She knew his statement was really a question of what she wanted, but she didn't have it in her emotionally that night to dissect her feelings and innermost wants and blah blah blah. The pain in her chest over Dean leaving her was too fresh and the electricity in her stomach making them flutter was too new for her to do anything but nod and go home.

…It was close to 2am when Tristan crawled into her window. Rory was tucked under the covers when the noise of his boots hitting the floor startled her eyes open.

Her breath became shallow as she felt his presence near the bed.

"Are you awake, Mary?" Tristan asked, though she knew he already knew the answer. Rory felt as though her breath was the loudest noise in the room.

Her breath hitched when she heard Tristan's boots being kicked off his feet, and the covers were being drawn away.

'_What was she doing? Did she want this?'_ Her mind who took Lorelai's voice asked her. Her sweet mother who was in her room oblivious to her daughter's newest sin.

Tristan slid under the covers and suddenly it was like Rory couldn't breathe on her own. His hand spread itself over her hip, and she breathed to the same rhythm as him.

Rory turned around, and as she did so Tristan's hand slid from her hip to her stomach and down to her other hip.

"I don't know what I want." Rory whispered into his nude chest. She hadn't realized or heard when he had removed it. She pressed her body closer to his timidly and she became conscious of the fact that he was only in his boxers. She wished she was bolder and could mold her body completely to his.

She felt Tristan shrug as his blue eyes took everything about her facial expression in.

"So?" Tristan spoke and it moved her. It was such a simple teenage answer that Rory couldn't refute it. Her mind couldn't conjure up a rebuttal as to why she shouldn't do anything at all with Tristan because they were young. This moment, right here, is what being a teenager amounted to. Being young and free amounted to the word 'so' and Rory felt Tristan smash his lips to hers. It wasn't like their first kiss. He wasn't asking for permission to go further – he was already in her room. He wasn't wondering if she felt the same way – she'd allowed him into her bed.

Rory lost herself in Tristan's touch – allowing him to strip her bare so that only her panties and his boxers were left as barrier. She felt small, and girly, and _so _sexy. He made her feel as though the sun was glistening off her skin and electricity ran through her veins.

Tristan moved so that he was between her legs, though he never attempted to strip her further. Rory searched his face and found that every time she moaned he closed his eyes in ecstasy. Her pleasure sent him into his own oblivion, but in the end all Tristan did was warm her body by pressing his down on hers. It was so comfortable, having him lying on top of her – it felt natural.

"Do you want to fall, Mary?" Tristan whispered in her ear. Her body shivered from the husky tone his voice had adapted in passion.

"Not really?" Rory said, clearly uncertain – she had no clue what he was on about, but she didn't get another moment to contemplate it. Tristan laughed lowly and simultaneously had lifted his lower body off her then pressed down again suddenly with a slight arch to his back. He pressed down again and again and again until Rory felt that the earth had realigned itself just so she could feel every sensation her body was capable of giving her. She felt the Earth had come undone and shattered around her as her moans became louder and louder until she heard Tristan gasp and gasp and gasp and suddenly her moan turned into a scream that was drowned out by an all-engulfing kiss as she fell over the edge of real ardor.

Rory held on to Tristan as her breathes wavered and her body spasm'd. She now saw the difference between Tristan and Dean – the difference that he'd been trying to show her all semester. Tristan felt and touched and did everything he wanted without reservation. Dean could only hold her hand and kiss her chastely. Dean would never have attempted to move her with his body, unless it came down to actual sex. Tristan didn't need the act of penetration to leave his mark on Rory; he did it anyway through tense looks and deep moans.

Rory could never look at Tristan the innocent way she would have before. He wrapped her up in his world of sin, and she was ashamed to admit that she would rather live in his world than the world she had always known. She would rather be scared and breathless every moment than content and comfortable.

"I should go." Tristan said once he got his bearings back, but panic seized Rory. Was she a _loose woman_ now? Had he just used her? But if she was honest with herself she knew if anyone should be pointing fingers it should be at her. _She _was the one who had just broken up with her boyfriend the day before. She was on the "rebound" not him. She was the one who had clutched at his back because she was trying to drown out the voice of her mother and the disapproving imaginary glare of her ex.

But in the end all that had been left was just Tristan. Just her. Just them.

"What are we now?" Rory asked fearfully.

"Don't ruin the glow with pillow talk." Tristan smirked. He was back to being the guy she'd known all along, yet Rory realized that it wasn't that different to the man who gasped into her neck when sensations had ran through him.

"Oh. Sorry." Rory said, she didn't know what else to say. Her armor of witty responses fled her brain as she realized how surreal and not in her element she actually was.

"Mary, stop thinking. I can see the clogs working right now." Tristan continued to smirk, but there was a laugh bubbling in his throat, waiting to come out.

"I can't help it!" Rory exclaimed. "We kiss at a party then you show up here and…_ravish_ me. What am I supposed to do? Play a jaunty tune? This isn't me! This isn't what I do."

Tristan let her say her peace as he lay atop her, silent. The second that she finished he kissed her deeply, swiping his tongue quickly through the inside of her mouth until he heard her give a throaty moan.

It was that kind of moan that sounds as if it's being ripped out of a person's soul.

"Stop putting yourself into this box of who you are. We're sixteen. This isn't what you do, Mary? Really? No. This isn't what you did with bag boy, but clearly you're different with me." Tristan told her, his eyes hard at having to mention _him_ after they'd just finished sharing an intimate moment. But that's what they do isn't it? They argue, and banter, and argue some more until apparently they kiss. It's just a part of the dynamic which is uniquely 'them'.

"Where does that leave us?" Rory asked, feeling guilty for putting her insecurities on Tristan.

"Exactly where we were before: Me wanting you, and you not knowing what you want," Tristan said simply as he rolled off Rory as out of the bed. He dressed quickly, more so than Rory would have thought possible. He sat on the bed so he could tie his shoes, and Rory sat up. She covered her body with the covers that surrounded her as she drew her body closer to Tristan's back.

She touched his shoulder gently, and bit her lip. She wanted to apologize for ruining things, and for always running from him. She wanted so many things: to be the daughter her mother thought she had, to be the proper girlfriend that Dean wanted – love and all, to be the kind of student that never messed up, to be the kind of friend who didn't betray – but what Paris didn't know couldn't hurt her…could it? The fact of the matter is that Rory is too young to know what to do or what to feel, so she settled with the most prominent emotion running inside of her.

She settled for the girl that Tristan can turn her into by a look or a touch: the kind of girl that was bold and brazen and _free. True freedom_ was the one thing she was sure she wanted. She just didn't know how to get it and still be everything else. But she knew that tonight? It was all about freedom.

"I _do _like you" Rory said, trying to convey feeling in her voice but she wasn't sure she succeeded. She knew it wasn't what he wanted to hear. It wasn't the same thing as saying she knew what she wanted.

He stood up and faced her. He gave her a chaste kiss, like the kind Dean used to give her, but it was so different simultaneously. Chaste with Tristan carried this gut clenching feeling that made Rory want to press her hand to her stomach.

"That's a start I guess." Tristan grinned, but Rory could see the sixteen year old in his eyes. It was the same guy who after their first kiss started to play the piano, like a vulnerable child who just didn't know what else could help.

"See you Monday, Mary" Tristan threw over his shoulder as he walked towards the window.

"Bye..." Rory whispered but he was already gone out the window.

She put her pajama's back on and crawled into the spot he had occupied when he had first gotten under the covers.

Rory woke the next morning and walked into the kitchen to make some coffee, but her mother was already up.

"Hey, kiddo! How'd it go last night?" Lorelai asked, already pouring Rory a cup. She placed it in front of her swiftly, and Rory looked into her mother's eyes. Lorelai adored her child, but Rory felt embarrassed to talk about what occurred last night. She felt as though she had let her mother down, sneaking a boy into her room than doing the things they had done; she blushed a bit.

"It was okay." Rory responded. She sipped the coffee to give herself something to focus on.

"Just okay?" Lorelai pushed. Rory knew that she wasn't buying it, but…She just couldn't convey all that she felt. Last night, she had felt strong. She had felt inhaled by Tristan and lost in him.

"Yea, just okay." She lied. She felt as though she was losing herself all over again but then she remembered Tristan's words to her last night: _"Stop putting yourself into this box of who you are. We're sixteen."_

She remembered his words and squared her shoulders and she let the lie hang between her and her mother. She let Tristan's words hold her up, and the day continued on. It had been the first time Rory had ever lied to her mother. Sure, she had omitted things before, but outright lie? This was the first time and the world didn't end, hearts weren't broken, and coffin's weren't nailed shut. The world continued, and Rory let a breath out she had been unintentionally holding.

'_See you Monday, Bible boy'_ she thought to herself as she finished her coffee.

A.N – So what does everyone think? This was originally supposed to be a multi-chapter story but I figured knowing me, that it would never get done especially since I have other multi-chapter stories that I have to update! Anywho, so voila! Hope everyone enjoyed it!

**P.S. PLEASE READ** I've decided though that I'll add chapters here and there randomly, but they can all stand alone and fit together cohesively – I'll make sure of it so the sign that says complete on the top is not a lie.

Reviews are much appreciated! :)


	2. A Drop In the Ocean

Disclaimer – I don't own so no one better not sue! :P

A.N. – **Review Responses: Summer2391 – **Thanks so much! Glad you like it so far!

**Tasha – **Thank you! I'm very happy you enjoyed it! Hopefully you'll like this chapter too. :)

**JJsMommy27 – **Thank you so much! I hope you like the rest of the story. :D

Down By the Water

LoverGurrl411

Chapter 2 – A Drop In the Ocean

Monday arrived like a coiled snake, ready to strike and Rory fidgeted all day. Lorelai had asked if everything was okay, but what could Rory really say? 'Yea, mom. Everything's fine. I just sort of fooled around with the spawn of Satan after Magdalene's party and now I don't know what to expect.' That would go over _so_ well.

But there Rory was, breathing in and out. She just kept on focusing on breathing and hoping that it would be enough, but the second she walked into the building – into that dreaded hallway with noise and people and everything that could possibly make her anxious – she saw Tristan. His lock of blonde hair and carefree laughter floated throughout the hallway, and Rory paused mid-step.

It was only for a second, but it felt to Rory as if everything had slowed down and it was only her heartbeat that was traveling at the speed of light. Tristan did that to her. Only he could do that to her, and she hated him for it, so she glared and the world returned to its normal speed.

She went to her locker, and pretended to look busy, but all Rory was really trying to accomplish was to slow her breathing and slow her heart. 'I _can do this_' she kept on repeating silently to herself, but in the end, all that was left was the heat that came off of Tristan being directly behind her – invading her space…always invading her space.

"What do you want, Tristan?" Rory asked him stonily without turning around.

"Ah, and the animosity returns" Tristan quipped back and Rory turned around suddenly. His voice sent a shockwave through her body, and his arrogant smile only made it tingle more, but his eyes were unsure and guarded. Rory realized that he might have been feeling out the situation just as much as her – completely insecure on where they went from there.

"No. No, animosity, Tristan. I just…don't know what you expect." Rory bared her heart out to him in the convoluted hallway as Paris's voice drew closer and closer. Her blue eyes looked everywhere but at him, and Tristan's blue eyes couldn't look anywhere but at her. It made her uncomfortable. It made her feel more alive than the air rushing into her lungs.

"I don't expect anything, Mary." Tristan talked to her downcast face with a shrug.

"Fine then." Rory said matter-of-factly, but clearly she wasn't matter-of-fact concerning anything. They were just words to fill the gaping hole left by his lie. He said he wasn't expecting anything but it couldn't be true, Rory rationalized in her mind.

_"Stop putting yourself into this box of who you are. We're sixteen. This isn't what you do, Mary? Really? No. This isn't what you did with bag boy, but clearly you're different with me." Tristan told her, his eyes hard at having to mention him after they'd just finished sharing an intimate moment. But that's what they do isn't it? They argue, and banter, and argue some more until apparently they kiss. It's just a part of the dynamic which is uniquely 'them'._

_"Where does that leave us?" Rory asked, feeling guilty for putting her insecurities on Tristan._

_"Exactly where we were before: Me wanting you, and you not knowing what you want," Tristan said simply as he rolled off Rory as out of the bed. _

He expected _something_ of her, Rory just didn't know what. She wasn't trained in the art of Men, and so she couldn't decipher all the subtext…all she could do was yearn and feel guilty and shameful for yearning. It was a vicious cycle that caused vertigo in her, and she titled towards Tristan. It was as if the movement of the Earth had shifted for a moment just so she could be closer to him…as if it was a sign.

But just as she was about to let herself be consumed of the feelings that assaulted her when he was around, she heard Paris.

"Well, doesn't this just warm the hearts of all the hackneyed romance lovers across America." Paris spoke and her voice grated on Rory's nerves for a moment. She had ruined something that Rory had been reaching for, but after a second, she thanked Paris in her mind.

Tristan clearly wasn't as bothered however, since the smirk he wore when he turned to Paris – with Magdalene and Louise flanking her on either side – reached his eyes and crinkled them a bit at the corners.

"Paris, as always your sharp tongue brightens up the day."

"Move over, Loverboy. You're in my way" Paris glared, but Tristan just laughed. He ruffled Paris's hair as he swept pass them all, locking gazes with Rory for only an instant, his swagger screaming 'cocky' as he strutted into a classroom leaving Rory to deal with the aftermath.

But Rory could finally breathe again.

And the day zoomed by just like that: people talking and Rory avoiding. It was almost as if everything had changed, though nothing had changed at all. The logic was complicated but most feelings that aren't shallow usually are.

Rory finally stepped out of her last class, and into the sunlight, and her mind screamed '_freedom'_ but her body wanted to linger. It wanted to be a bit closer to Tristan and feel those feelings that she had only felt with him. But what would she say to her mother one day if asked? It all came down to Lorelai, Rory realized, and she felt resentment towards her mother for forever being the voice in her head that she felt she had to live up to.

"Didn't anyone teach you that being alone with your thoughts is dangerous?" Tristan appeared next to Rory and she felt her skin jump and crawl all over. She felt those butterflies as she realized _this_ she could do. The casual banter and battle of wits was something normal and easy for them and Rory finally felt as though her axis had been restored.

"Nope. Sesame Street never aired an episode for that lesson. They were too busy teaching me that if I saw a puppet monster in a garbage can, I should feed it cookies." Rory grinned, and Tristan smirked back. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered more, and Rory could feel her teeth start to want to clatter and shake.

"Thank God they weren't trying to convince you to give it your coffee" Tristan quipped and Rory gave a mock horrified look.

"Such blasphemous words! To the gallows!" Rory yelled into the open space with her hand waving furiously in the air. It felt good to speak loud and smile and feel tense at the same time.

"Mary, you _have got_ to lay off the BBC's Pride and Preju…dice." Tristan slowed down, the smile that had lingered on his face vanishing like love on the wind. "Better yet, lay off the bag boys."

Rory was confused but she followed his eyesight, and saw Dean clad in leather and next to his motorcycle. Their eyes met and she could see helplessness and hurt swirling within his soul, but Rory stood rooted to place. She felt guilty for smiling and laughing, and wanting another man that wasn't Dean. It had only been four days, and yet Tristan's touch was still imprinted on her skin – her neck and arms and legs…any place that he had been able to reach.

Dean only stared at Rory and she felt her defenses weaken…he was the man Lorelai had chosen; the one who Lorelai trusted to make Rory happy. Shouldn't that mean something? It had to.

Rory took a step towards Dean, but felt the heat of Tristan's hand grasp her upper arm. She turned her head sideways to look at him better, and try as she might, she couldn't read him. She knew he didn't want her to walk to Dean, but she couldn't see why or what compelled him to stop her in the first place. Rory was looking at Christmas present, unable to open the package…but she knew without doubt that it would bring her unimaginable pleasure if she would only wait.

If she would only wait…She turned back around to Dean and though they were far enough away that she was out of reach, she was still close enough to see the betrayal in his eyes.

'_He probably thinks I was waiting for a chance to be with Tristan' _Rory's mind whispered to her.

'_They'll call you whore' _Rory's mind continued. But all Rory would answer the inner her was "So?" She could still feel Tristan's heat on her arm, and it created images within her mind of mouths filled with moans and skin glistening with sweat. His olive skin against hers doing nothing but getting familiar with the language her limbs spoke. This was all she could see as Dean stood before her, heartbroken.

Dean turned around, climbed his motorcycle, and drove away. And Rory let that bridge burn, if only just because she could, since doing things she would have never associated with herself was so new. If Rory lived in the TV, maybe she would have shaken off Tristan and ran after Dean. Dean would have asked her what he was doing there, and then a beautiful scene where declarations of love were exchanged would have proceeded and Tristan would have been left forgotten…lost to Rory forever.

But it wasn't so, and all Tristan said was "He broke your heart first, don't forget that."

Rory just nodded, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything. Remorse was slowly trying to eat at her, and Rory had never built an immune system to it.

"Come on, you missed your bus" Tristan said, but just like Friday he was really asking, unsure if she wanted to be near him after he was the reason she had just killed the remnants of her relationship with Dean.

No, not just for Tristan, Rory decided. It was for everything that she was and wanted to be when he was around: _Just sixteen._ But damn it all, if she wasn't terrified of whom that would make her tomorrow; would her mother recognize her when the day came at an end or would Rory fall short of whom her mother wanted her to be?

But Rory walked with Tristan to his red sports car. She got into the vehicle and told him how to get to her home. Silence befriended them, until Tristan let his Ipod speak for them. Reggae talked through the speakers and Rory let the beat sway her in her seat. Her lower body involuntarily grinded on the seat, and Tristan chanced a glance at her. Her face flushed and Tristan's eyes became darker.

Electricity crackled in the air, but Tristan only licked his lips and kept his eyes on the road.

"So, who is this?" Rory asked trying to break the sexual tension that was choking the space between.

"Tanya Stephens. It's called 'These Streets'." Tristan responded. Rory watched the way he maneuvered the wheel and she felt the heat rush to her cheeks again. He handled the car the way he seemed to handle Rory on Friday: effortlessly.

"Oh. It's nice" Was all Rory said. What else could she say?

"Okay, Gilmore. What judgment would you like to pass?" Tristan asked, and Rory felt as though round two of the day had just started. She was offended.

"What do you mean 'judgment'?" Rory exclaimed. He was boxing her into this person who he thought he had pegged to a tee…and maybe he did and Rory hated it. "I don't pass judgment. This is a judgment free zone."

"Oh yes you do. You just consider your judgments passed as expressing your opinion." They were getting closer and closer to Rory's house and she was getting fidgety. She didn't want the world the look at her as if she was shameful. Not after she already feels shameful; shameful of the lingering taste of Tristan's mouth on hers.

"Well, I guess I just won't express any more opinions, oh king, Tristan" Rory responded sarcastically. He was right and she knew it, she just didn't want to concede. Not to Tristan. Something about the thought made it seem irrationally like she would be giving up too much if she did.

"Relax, Mary. Your _opinions_ are the highlights of my day" Tristan said smoothly, and Rory knew that almost every girl she knew would have fallen for it. But not Rory.

'_But why not?'_ Rory's mind asked her, and she had no response. Her mother never had fit the mold of every other girl, and she wanted her mother to be proud so she didn't let herself fit the common mold either. But that's exactly what she needed. She wanted to let herself be swept away by common words and cheesy lines, because she wanted to _be _a teenager.

So she laughed, and though the first puff of air was forced, it was so easy afterwards. She felt normal and alive, enjoying the moment.

"You just don't look like a Reggae kind of guy," Rory said after a moment where laughter pulled at the corners of her mouth.

They'd finally reached her home. And Rory didn't want to leave the car. It was warm and smelt of Tristan; that unique cologne of his that made Rory's head swim.

'_Dean's cologne used to do that to you'_ her mind reminded her… but all Rory felt at the thought was 'So?'

"I'll tell you the story some other time." Tristan said as he put the car into park, and turn in his seat to look at Rory. But as he turned, he shifted his upper body so he was closer.

"Or you could tell me now" Rory said. Anything to stay. Anything to keep him. Fire was creeping inside of her belly and she didn't want to lose that feeling of every atom in her body buzzing.

Tristan leaned in so he was a few centimeters away from Rory's face and she thought he would kiss her. She thought that he would devour her in his car, with the way his eyes looked like a storm of blue waves…but he didn't. He dipped his head suddenly and kissed her neck.

Rory let out a gasp. Dean never kissed her so intimately. It was always chaste pecks on the lips, or lingering kisses on the cheek or the occasional sloppy exchange of parted lips upon parted lips. But the way Tristan opened his mouth over her neck and kissed it gently, as if Rory would combust if he put more pressure…_It was all man and passion_.

"Keep your window open, tonight" Tristan whispered huskily, and Rory could only nod. Remembering that she had no clue what she wanted or what she was doing…but she knew that she wanted whatever Tristan would bring to her tonight. He had a way of causing vertigo in her world that compelled her to want more.

So she opened the car door, and went inside of her home and holed herself up in her room the rest of the day. Lorelai came home a bit late, and asked Rory what was wrong, but Rory instead claimed to be doing homework, though she was hyperventilating every ten minutes or so.

Lorelai was none the wiser that Rory spent the day waiting and waiting and waiting for the night. It was as if a curse had been placed on her. Everywhere she looked in her room she could only see images of Tristan wanting her. But Rory never left the room. She welcomed the torture.

And maybe…she always would because it was her distorted version of Freedom.

And finally Tristan arrived at midnight. And when she felt his body dip the side of her bed, she could finally breathe again.

~TBC~

A.N. – So, what does everyone think? I liked the chapter but was conflicted about the ending. Anyhow, thoughts and comments are very appreciated as always! :D


	3. We Are Young

Disclaimer – I don't own anything but the plot! :*

A.N. – **Review Responses: Crystal Moon Magic – **You are soo right, and I hope this chapter meets your expectations.

**Jalna – **You are awesome, and I'm definitely going to incorporate the whole natural born leader into my next chapter. Thanks for the Review.

**Monique89 **– Thanks for the correction and honesty. :)

**AddictedToGilmoreGirls, adrianiforever, JJsMommy27, and people-alwayz-leave: **Thanks sooo much for all the support, love, and encouragement! Every review helps and inspires!

Down By the Water

LoverGurrl411

_/Tonight, we are young. So, let's set the world on fire;_

_We can burn brighter than the sun/_

_-_We Are Young by Fun

Chapter 3 - We Are Young

And so time continued, and every night Tristan would sneak into Rory's room late at night and enamor her with sounds of pleasure. And when he would leave, something always seemed unresolved yet comforting to Rory. But she was slowly suffocating under the curious and worried looks Lorelai would give her.

Was it so bad she just wanted to be free? Was it so horrible that she just wanted to do whatever she wanted without needing an explanation? Her guilty thoughts were clawing away at the wonderful feeling of euphoria that was always left over the next day. It has been two weeks. Two weeks of Rory being dropped off at home and Tristan sneaking in her room late at night. It has been two weeks of guilt crippling her relationship with Lorelai, but Rory had never felt more normal. Rory knew that the addiction that she was suddenly developing for Tristan's quick wit and ardent lips was unhealthy but how could she deny herself when he was in her bed, learning the art of how to make her moan?

It was Thursday night when the true test came for Rory. She was lying on her stomach, staring at Tristan as he put his boots on. She was committing everything to memory as if it was going to be the last time – and for all Rory knew it could be. Tristan could finally wizen up and decide that he was sick of waiting for Rory to figure out what she wanted. Rory treated every time as though it was the last, every kiss as though she could will her essence to him…so he could understand, but she knew that he understood too well.

"There's a party this weekend at my friend's, Finn." Tristan spoke casually. Everything with him was casual…until it wasn't and then everything was suddenly ridiculously deep.

"Are you inviting me?" Rory asked hesitantly. Witty repartees in the hallways and semi-silent passionate nights weren't the same thing as going to a party together. People would see. People would talk. She'd have to ask her mother…

"Would you say yes if I did?" Tristan was fast to respond. He knew somewhere in his gut that this was a moment that would decide a lot for him. He was a proud man, and he wouldn't take to being hidden in the shadows for much longer. His soul could not survive the taunting humiliation that he somehow wasn't good enough. Hiding him from her mother wasn't the same as hiding him from his own friends.

Rory paused in contemplation. Would she? Should she? She'd have to ask Lorelai…

"Yes." She finally responded, and a self indulgent smile adorned Tristan's mouth. He leaned over and kissed her swiftly. It was a kiss of forgiveness. He forgave her for not having the courage to give up her little rebellion against her mother, and in turn hiding him. He forgave her because there was nothing to forgive; they were young, and innately he knew that hurting each other was what young people did sometimes…

"Stop thinking. You're giving _me_ a headache," he rolled his eyes. "You don't have to ask your mother."

"Don't I?" She asked, put out. How would she explain? Where should she start? Should she lie and tell a fabricated story about how the spawn of Satan really wasn't so bad? But he was. He tempts her in ways Dean never had, and probably never could. He breathes his hot breath in her face when he clenches his eyes shut and grinds his body into her. He grips her fiercely when he wants her closer, and it hurts – the good kind of pain. He tempts her, and somewhere down the line, she had learned to tempt him with a swirl of her hips and a scrape with her nails on his back.

"No. Lie." Tristan spoke in a "duh" voice, and Rory was appalled. Keeping secrets weren't the same thing as outright lying. And Tristan knew it. He didn't care, and felt that if she was going to try to be a teenager then she should learn not to care so much either.

He left after a moment, a smugness attached to his being. Rory, frustrated, threw a pillow that was damp with sweat at the window. It didn't reach, but it did make her feel a little bit better.

The next day was Friday and it saw a bright day with birds chirping and deer's frolicking in the woods. Rory instead was in the kitchen…pondering and worrying. Lorelai walked in and glanced hesitantly at Rory who was sitting. The silence was awkward. Lorelai, being young once – not too long ago – knew something was _off_ but couldn't put her finger on it. Rory only noticed her own guilt and odd pleasure from breaking out of her mother's shadow.

"So, Friday night…any big plans?" Lorelai teased as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Uhh…" This was the moment and Rory took a breath. She said the first lie that came to her mind. "Actually, Louise is throwing a slumber…thing…tonight. I was thinking about going?" '_Not bad'_ her inner devil applauded her. She felt high off the self praise and felt better about her acting suddenly.

"A slumber…thing…with Louise?" Lorelai raised an eyebrow, not sure how to take the news.

"Yea. Madeline and Paris will be there too!" Rory forced pep into her voice. She wanted to cringe a bit, but thought to save that when she had to convince Louise to throw a slumber party later on.

Lorelai nodded an assent, though they both knew it was just a formality. Lorelai would have never said no. "So, since when are you so close to Louise or Madeline or Paris?"

Rory shrugged. Lorelai spied the action and was thrown for a loop, but how to approach a teenager when they're being tightlipped? She didn't know, so decided to save that battle for another time when she's had Luke's coffee in her system.

At Chilton, at the locker, everything was a bit more stressful for Rory today. Tristan had done his casual stop by and teasing session which Paris had conveniently interrupted. The feelings were crazy for Rory when they were in public – it was as though he were undressing her in his mind, all the while saying something as mundane as "Did you do the homework, Mary?"

"How long have you and Tristan known each other?" Rory asked suddenly, clearly startling Paris.

"I thought you weren't into Tristan?" Madeline asked with a shake of her head, her eyes misty as always.

"She's obviously been lying." Louise put her two cents in, but she watched Rory with hawk eyes that seemed to see everything. Rory felt naked. "So do tell, Rory. Have you kissed him, yet?" Louise and Magdalene were deriving too much pleasure from Rory's unease.

"I'm not _into _Tristan, ergo, no kissing" Rory said as she closed her locker answering both questions.

"No one cares if u have, Gilmore. Be careful though, not all diseases are curable." Paris bit into the conversation, her glare of doom burning Rory.

"A disease you wouldn't mind catching," Louise purposefully took a stab at Paris, her perfectly shaped right eyebrow raised. It was just the way things were in the Chilton popular crowd. They all hung out yet hated each other simultaneously. But For all its faults, Rory knew that Louise would be ready to skin someone – any outsider – alive for messing with Paris. It just made Rory see all the more that though unwilling, and reluctant as Rory was to be included in the crowd…_she was _and she hadn't even realized when it had happened.

Rory realized that the bell still hadn't rung and she was getting impatient to leave the conversation. She wanted to see the back of Tristan's head in History class, or see his body jump up and down as he ran in gym…she wanted him around her, but all she had was wants, because the second he was near, she was back to wanting distance and needing more air. He was overwhelming.

"Actually…are you guys going to some party this weekend?" Rory broached hesitantly. She was nervous.

"You mean Finn's?" Louise asked curiously. Her eyes saw too much, and made connections too fast and Rory knew the second she was busted. "Tristan invited you!" She said with an ha-I-knew-it voice.

"I thought you weren't _into_ Tristan," Paris mocked. She was jealous but every once in a while she forgot that she liked the King.

"She's probably not. But I hear he's a great kisser." Madeline said, and her flippant attitude and spot on analysis of the situation made Rory take a deep breath of relief. She wasn't a freak. But she was a liar…she did like him…she just didn't know how much.

_RIIIING_

'_Thank God,' _Rory thought, never more grateful for an excuse to leave a conversation.

Paris opened her mouth to speak but Rory just walked away with the bell, and Louise, Magdalene, and Paris followed.

Classes were boring and monotonous. Only once during the day did Rory's heart jump and flutter: Someone at lunch decided to play music from their car out in the parking lot and a reggae song – probably from Tristan's c.d., Rory guessed – started to play. Tristan swayed his body grind-style to an imaginary figure just a bit – not enough to be considered vulgar – and it was only a moment and then it was gone but it was so reminiscent of when Tristan grinds his body into her that her mind kept replaying it all day. She wore a blush permanently the rest of the day.

At the end of the day – she hid in the library from Paris and the crew for her free period – she stretched her arms out wide and started out the doors towards Tristan's car. She knew he would wait for her.

"Not so fast, Gilmore!" Paris called out with Louise and Madeline in tow. Rory groaned but knew she needed to talk to them. They were her alibi.

"How are you getting to the party, tonight?" Louise asked, cutting off whatever heated diatribe Paris was surely to go into, and Rory realized how much she valued Louise – who was never afraid of Paris's wrath or of heading her off. Rory had never realized until that moment, how often Louise actually shielded her. She smiled. Louise smiled. And a bond was formed…all indirectly because of Tristan.

"How do you feel about having a slumber party?" Rory asked.

"We definitely should do the girls thing! Dress up, do each other's hair, get our nails done, the works! Lord knows I need a pedicure." Madeline talked excitedly. Rory raised her eyes, not sure if she did still love her own plan anymore.

Louise just nodded, "That means we should leave now. You coming Paris?"

Paris scoffed. "I wouldn't be caught dead at one of these reunions for the barbaric male. One minute it's 'let's dance,' next he's humping your leg like Cujo!"

"I didn't realize Disney was so explicit," Louise sniped back, taking especial offense considering every once in a while she hosted one of these same parties.

"Okay, retracting claws now guys," Rory tried to mediate but there was noticeable laughter in her voice. "I have to go home though. Pick up pj's, get an outfit, etc."

"Not a chance! We have to buy new outfits for–" Madeline started, but Tristan and a few of his friends approached.

"What's this about outfits? Do we get to watch at the store?" Tristan teased. Rory rolled her eyes, but deep inside she was squirming. She could afford to buy new clothes, but maybe not where Louise and Madeline shopped, and even then she'd have to go to Lorelai and ask her for the money. She knew she was being ridiculous, but she wanted to keep Lorelai as far away from anything to do with her newfound teenager-ness as she could.

"Louise and Madeline want to go shopping for tonight." Rory explained to him as Louise and Madeline were distracted by the other guys. Paris was forgotten.

"Here," Tristan said as he pulled out his wallet and gave her a couple hundred dollars. "Take this and do the girl thing."

Rory's eyes widened and she automatically tried to push the money away from her, shaking her head.

"This is too much, Tristan. How—"

"I'm showing you off tonight." Indignity rose in her chest that she didn't need Tristan buying things for her, but she knew that wasn't _her_. That was her inner Lorelai clone that told her she was independent, but teenage Rory liked the idea of being showered, if only once. She liked the idea of being possessed by Tristan. His rough hands pulling on her hair flashed through her mind – it was too much at once and she took a shaky breath. He had such a cocky smirk on his face that Rory didn't know how to respond.

Louise however did, and snatched the money out of his hands.

"I'll take care of it," she said and Tristan just nodded. Rory was reminded that most Chiltonites grew up together going to the same private schools, etc. all their lives.

Both Rory and Tristan were so used to touching each other in the night, that neither noticed that his right hand had been on Rory's hip the entire time. Her left hand had been resting on his forearm. To them it was heat and it was discreet.

Rory never realized that the minute Tristan and she began talking, they had blown their cover. When he had passed her the money, whatever prospect of salvaging the idea that Rory was on the "hate Tristan train" had flown out the window.

And the night came fast. Rory laughed and engaged herself with Louise and Madeline during the day, ignoring her mother's phone call as long as she could with the excuse of a meeting running late on her lips. Finally when she spoke to Lorelai it was already five pm. It was a short conversation, which left Lorelai unsatisfied, but Rory loved the liberation she felt from her mother's prying eyes.

And then she was at the party. She was dancing with Tristan and no one cared. No one cared, and Tristan never once introduced her as his girlfriend or friend-with-benefits. He introduced her as 'Rory,' and Rory felt like calling her mother and saying "ha! See, I'm still independent! He doesn't own me, and he isn't trying to!"

Meeting Finn, close to the middle of the night, was…an experience.

"My man! Where have you been?" Tristan yelled out over Rory's shoulder, startling her.

"Handling _your_ business!" Finn's Australian accent called out, and they both laughed and embraced like long lost brothers. Rory just stood there a bit awkward. "And who's this chickadee?"

"This is Rory," Tristan smiled and swung an arm over her shoulders, inadvertently pulling her closer.

"Well, 'ello there love. Do you happen to know any red heads?" Finn inquired with a mischievous smile, and was instantly shoved laughingly by Tristan.

"Ignore him. He's recently had his brain extracted by aliens who came in peace," Tristan joked. His eyes sparkled with laughter, and Rory was amazed that going to a simple party with him could relax him so. Make him so _happy_.

"If they took out his brain how do you know they came in peace?" Rory couldn't help but smile. She knew, if she knew anything at all in this world, that Tristan would always have a comeback worth hearing.

"He's alive, isn't he?"

"Well, since I have no brain, must mean I've got no filter either, eh? So, _Rory_, would you like to hear about the time Tristan slept with a man?" Finn cut into their banter, mischief clear on his face. Rory was thankful that she hadn't been drinking anything. Her eyes were like saucers, but it only lasted a moment since Tristan was so quick to respond.

"She wasn't a man!"

"She had a beard."

"She had smeared lipstick!"

"Pretty nice beard, if I say so"

Rory's eyes bounced from one to another, and suddenly she laughed and laughed, and it felt so _good _to laugh with Tristan next to her. She felt safe in the way only a father can make one feel. She felt like a child again…until Finn offered her a beer, and she blurted out yes before she had a moment to really think about it. But once the beer was in her hand, she couldn't go back… and she didn't want to.

Once Tristan kissed her hungrily at the end of the night in front of Louise and Madeline, she couldn't go back…and she didn't want to.

"Had fun tonight, Mary?" Tristan gave her a knowing gaze, and she couldn't help the blush that spread.

"Eh, it was okay." She shrugged, and then they both chuckled a bit. He went to turn but then leaned in so close that Rory thought he was going to kiss her again, but instead he whispered in her ear "Don't forget to dream about me, tonight."

"Cocky much?" Rory shouted after him in mock indignity but Tristan didn't even turn to dignify her statement with a response as he whistled on his way. They both knew she _would_ dream about him…it was with a wistful sigh that she exhaled.

She watched him turn back to his friends who came with them all to drop the three girls off, and she felt light as a feather and as a bright as the sun. He did that to her, and when Rory turned around to face Louise and Madeline, neither made any snarky comment. Instead, they all stood for a moment staring at each other and then they squealed as only teenage girls can do when their happiness is too much to contain. They squealed and then laughed at their girlishness and Tristan, Finn, and Duncan just watched the girls for a moment before getting into their cars.

Their happiness was a sight to behold…and the night? _Fucking epic._

~TBC~

A.N. – So? Tell me that you guys loved this chapter, because I loved the middle to end. I'm not too sure about the beginning but I'm in love with the ending to the chapter and I hope everyone is too. Anywho, let me know what you think even if you hated it, and review! :)


	4. Shifting Gears

Disclaimer – I don't own anything but the plot, so please don't sue! 3

A.N. – First off let me to tell you guys that you all have the right to throw rocks at me, because I've had more than half of this written a couple of days after I posted the last chapter. But the ending didn't feel right, you know? Finally, I dished out something I could be happy with, and I hope you guys are too.

**Review Responses: Leens – **Awww, thanks soo much! I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations! :D

**LoVe23 –** Thanks so much! I alwaaaays love Louise! I feel like she doesn't get enough love in most stories, so watch out for her! She's definitely my other lovable chic besides Rory. Lol.

**Guest –** I'm glad you enjoyed it! I always did feel she was just too mature for her age! Hopefully this chapter addresses the dynamic that caused a bit more. :)

**Guest –** Oh boy, hope you know which guest you are! Lol. Thanks so much, and I'm gonna try to clear the air as soon as I can but it's gonna be a slow walk with Lorelai simply because realistically, a teenager craving freedom is not going to want to sit down and de-pack what's going on with her with others, until she's figured it out herself. But I think by the end of this chapter, you'll agree she is on her way. I hope. Lol. :D

**Ican'tbemewithoutYou**, **hulagirlnot**, **jalna**, **roselily29**, **YaleAceBella12**, **roganjalex**, **JJsMommy27:** Thank you so much for the love and support! Really, if all you readers didn't show love, I'd probably never bother with the story after the first chapter. You guys are awesome and I truly hope you guys enjoy this new chapter! Reviews are like music to my soul! Lol. 3 3 :)

_/Don't you hate a coulda woulda shoulda? Coulda did, woulda did, well ya shoulda!  
>If I had a dollar for every should be, know how rich I would be; <em>

_Like they say it is what it is, not what it could be./_

_- Should Be You by Ne-Yo_

Chapter 4 – Shifting Gears

Saturday morning came with loud snores and heavy happy sighs. Louise and Rory were both bed hoggers so they both were sprawled crazily all over the king sized bed, Rory slumped in the middle, while Madeline was hugging her pillow in the right corner of the bed trying unconsciously not to fall off.

Rory was dreaming of Tristan dressed in hero regalia as they danced under the moon. But the moon was under them. Wait! The moon was all around them—no! It was stars! Stars surrounded Rory as she swayed to one of Tristan's reggae songs. Her hips leaned side to side subtly—as subtly as when she's under Tristan.

"Who are you?" Tristan's deep voice asked, but Rory couldn't speak. She was suffocating, drowning. Her emotions were too much to bear, and all the while Tristan just smiled. He smiled gently and kissed her mouth chastely, and whispered "Just say you're mine, and it'll get better, Mary. I promise."

"I promise" echoed off the moons and the stars, and suddenly they were running through the galaxy. They were going so fast that Rory could only laugh, and laugh. She yelled "I'm yours!" through her laughter, and Tristan would yell "I know!"

"I'm yours!"

"I know"

"I'm yours!"

"I know"

And then the galaxy stopped and they were watching the Earth from a brilliant star that gave everything a glow.

"I would give you everything, if you would just want me," Tristan said as he gazed into her eyes unwaveringly; with unwavering loyalty and warmth.

"I do want you." Rory said achingly to him. She wanted him _so bad_ that she wondered if he could even imagine the extent if he were given a thousand years.

'_A thousand years is not long enough…_' a voice Rory did not recognize spoke, but Tristan did not acknowledge it. Perhaps he did not hear it. Perhaps…

"I do want you," she repeated.

"But you don't love me" Tristan despaired, and the earth exploded right in front of their eyes. The earth exploded into tiny particles that sparkled like the most expensive diamonds in the universe.

"Give me time," she answered. And together they watched as diamonds scattered into space. She watched as his hands inched towards hers, and somehow it would mean more than any kiss they'd ever shared and she knew if he grasped her hand she would fall in love. His hand was closer, and closer, and her breath was held stagnant in her lungs…

"Wake up you lazy bums!" Paris' voice banged Rory down to an Earth that wasn't made of diamonds along with Louise and Madeline.

"Oh God, I'm in hell" Louise grumbled as she buried her head deeper into her pillow.

"Not quite, but remind me to refer to Dante to make sure. Now, wake up! It's the middle of the day!"

"It's a Saturday! Is no day sacred, Paris?" Rory's appalled face looked at Paris through bleary eyes as she pushed herself against the headboard, simultaneously making more space for Madeline.

"God's day is Sunday, isn't it?" Madeline asked, as she too pushed herself into a sitting position. Madeline sat Indian style facing the door and Paris completely. Apparently, being awoken by Paris could not ruin Madeline's sunny disposition.

"Whose side are you on?" Rory joked, and attempted to shake herself fully awake. Her dream…what had she dreamt? It was escaping her so fast. _'Wait! Come back!' _her mind was yelling at her, but the harder she tried to recall, the faster it went, and in the end all she was left with was a memory of Tristan's soul deep gaze, and diamonds exploding into space. It left her with a weird aching gape in her stomach she couldn't identify.

By the time Rory registered anything outside of her own mind, Louise was getting up from the bed and headed into the shower, and Madeline was headed out the door, down the hall, to one of the guest bedrooms.

"What's going on?" Rory asked Paris who hadn't moved.

"Everyone's getting ready. Are you coming to the Ballet tonight?"

"Umm…Ballet?" Rory asked as she got up and began searching through Louise's closet. She paused mid-movement to wonder at what she was doing. '_We really_ are_ friends, now'_ Rory marveled.

"Yea, Madeline's ballet recital is tonight. She's performing a solo along with Adamo Nicoletti." Paris said with a shrug. She seemed bored, but there was something that seemed _off_ to Rory.

"Okaaaaaaay?"

"So are you going?" Paris' voice hardened. She had lost all the seemingly patience and friendliness that she had.

Rory truly contemplated for a moment if she wanted to go. Madeline, especially after a slumber party, would expect Rory there and Rory didn't want to disappoint. But would she need a date? What if she brought Tristan? Here, she had thought that she'd passed that hurdle last night, but apparently, some fears are too hard to swallow so easily.

"Yea, I'll be there. Is it a school Recital? I haven't seen any posters around?"

"Are you serious? You don't know who Adamo Nicoletti is?" Louise came out of the bathroom in a towel. Her eyes bulged out as though Rory had been abducted by aliens.

"Okay, I'm going to take a wild stab and say this is _not_ a school performance" Rory said, amused. She finished picking out a regular t-shirt and jeans from Louise's closet and threw them on the bed with an "I'm wearing those!" yell at Louise as she simultaneously went into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

"Whatever. And, no. This is _not_ a regular school recital! Madeline is doing a solo with one of the best of the East Coast Ballet Company. This is a _huge_ deal!" Louise spoke loudly so Rory could hear her over the water running. "Imagine all the important husbands she could catch! Anyone who matters attends the Ballet at least once a season, you know."

Rory didn't need to ask when she went into the bathroom for supplies, because one thing she had learned from Emily Gilmore was that all prominent families always had extra _everything_ just in case there were guests. She opened the bottom cabinet, and viola! A whole pack filled with brand new toothbrushes.

As she stood in front of the mirror brushing her teeth, she watched her eyes. She looked at them and wondered if she was somehow different, than before. What made her suddenly comfortable in this world that she had before ignored as much as possible? Her eyes were the same brilliant blue as ever, but now…if she closed her eyes she could Tristan's touch on her shoulder, her back, her cheek. She could feel him as though he were there, and it was a heady feeling. It made her feel as though she belonged in this world.

She had friends in this world, now, and sometimes friendship is all one needs to be comfortable….Tristan was in this world, and she realized as she rinsed that _he_ was the reason she was comfortable. With Tristan as her champion, she could never lose; or at least that's how he made her feel.

Rory stood straight, squared her shoulders, and exited the bathroom believing one thing: If Tristan was her champion, then she had _no _reason to be afraid.

"Wow. That's great Madeline!" Rory smiled at Madeline who had just walked back into the room.

"So, do you know where the Theatre is?" Madeline asked sweetly. Her eyes were devoid of mischief, but the road to hell was paved with good intentions.

"Probably not, but with _the king_ himself as her date, I'm sure she'll find the theatre just fine," Paris said snidely.

Rory ignored the jibe and reached for the clothes, but Paris wasn't letting it go. Not that day: the morning after Rory spent all night on the arm of Chilton's most eligible bachelor.

"Oh, don't be modest, Gilmore. Regale us with your Cinderella story! I for one was too busy to witness your rise on the totem pole firsthand," Paris pushed. Rory tensed. She didn't like the insinuation that she was engaging Tristan for his social status.

"Busy doing what? Homework?" Louise mocked Paris. Rory glanced at Louise and saw the mischief in her eyes, and surprisingly it worked well enough for a distraction to allow Rory to get dressed in relative peace.

"Some of us actually care about getting into a good college!"Paris began her tirade.

Half an hour passed and all the girls were dressed and ready to leave. Louise dropped Rory off at Emily Gilmore's house, and Emily received her with a surprised smile and open arms. That night would be the first time Rory had ever attended the ballet. In lieu of that, Emily Gilmore decided that Rory needed a new gown, and so they needed to go shopping. Rory hadn't even spoken to Lorelai to let her know of her plans, or had called Tristan to see if he would be her date. Halfway through her modeling session with Emily, Lorelai called.

"Hey mom," Rory answered the phone wearily.

"So the strangest thing happened to me" Lorelai spoke extremely hyper. Rory muttered an "oh boy" but Lorelai continued on.

"I had this dream where aliens came to me and were all 'I want to phone home' and I said, 'okay. I'll go find E.T.' but E.T. wasn't around—"

"Why would you get E.T. to phone home? They could be completely different species" Rory cut in. Rory was in the fitting room, trying on one of the lasts dresses that Emily had picked out for her. It was a bright yellow that made her cringe if she stared at it too long. She shook her head and started to take it off.

"Doesn't matter," Lorelai insisted. "Don't ruin the flow of the dream. _So_, I woke up from my dream and thought 'maybe my lovely daughter will know where E.T. is!"

"Why would I know where E.T. is?" Rory cut in again. She paused for a second to listen to her mother's answer.

"Again, not the point," Lorelai playfully spoke sharply. Rory nodded her head, and continued to dress as her mother continued to ramble on. "So, I go into my daughter's room and _viola_! No daughter! It's 10am, do you know where my daughter is?" Lorelai ended her speech with a mockery, and for a moment they were as they had always been before _the moment_. "The Moment" was the second that Tristan's lips touched Rory's and made her want more than she had ever wanted.

Rory laughed bitterly because she wasn't _that_ girl anymore, and she was reminded as she looked at herself in the mirror and saw herself in a beautiful emerald dress. It complimented her skin, and fit her body like a tailor made glove.

"—You haven't heard a word I said, have you?" Lorelai said amused, but underneath she was uneasy. Lorelai wanted to find some equal ground with Rory, the teenager, but she had gotten so used to Rory, the thirty year old in a teenage body, that she didn't know how to relate anymore. She didn't know how to ask what was wrong with them. There used to be a "them." Now they were Lorelai and Rory, two separate countries.

"No, sorry. What's up?" Rory said, her mind on the possibility of seeing Tristan. '_No. Stay focused. No. Don't think about Tristan. No. Focus, focus, focus._' Rory coached herself, but it was _so_ hard.

"When are you coming home? I thought we could hangout, watch movies, eat bad popcorn…" Lorelai trailed off. Her voice was hopeful, and guilt tore are Rory.

"…Okay…" Rory said hesitantly.

"Did you have something to do tonight?" Lorelai asked, but her "mom voice" peaked out. She'd heard the hesitancy on Rory's part.

"Umm…Not really, I guess. It's cool. You, me, and a movie night. Can't wait!" Rory forced pep into her voice. She took off the emerald dress, and stared at the next one longingly. There was no use trying on the other one if she wasn't going anywhere anymore.

"You guess? So, you did have plans?" Lorelai was in full mother mode and Rory didn't know how to react. Lorelai didn't go into parent mode often.

"Well, Madeline had this recital tonight, but it's fine. I can go to the ballet another time." Rory tried to explain away her hesitancy, but the truth was that once she had accepted the idea of walking into high society on Tristan's arm, she had started to _want_ it. It was like she was going to stamp him as hers like he does to her at night when she's in his arms; even if he wasn't actually hers.

"This is the first I'm hearing of this," Lorelai chided softly, but there was an undercurrent of anger.

Rory kept in check the rebellious urge to say "this is the first I'm telling you of this," but it was right on the tip of her tongue. Something about the situation rubbed her the wrong way. It's like when someone takes a doll away from a child and sends them to the corner. The child knows that the situation is wrong. The child knows, without being able to articulate it, that there's nothing wrong with wanting their doll with them. Being in the corner is okay, as long as they're not alone.

"Yea…" Rory said instead.

"Wouldn't you need a dress for the ballet? The Hartford elite don't go in regular dresses to these things," Lorelai said simply, but Rory could practically hear her brain working a mile a minute.

"I was actually dress shopping with Grandma right now, but it's fine, mom. " The guilt was crushing Rory. She didn't want to hurt her mother's feelings, and she knew that was what she was doing. She was in a world of paradox's because she didn't want to hurt her but Rory couldn't stop wanting everything that Tristan was offering.

Last night she had felt _free_. So free that she had kissed Tristan in front of Madeline and Louise and hadn't thought twice about it until this very moment.

"No, if you already bought a dress, then you might as well go. It's Saturday, so the ballet should end at around 10pm, you'll get home at 11pm, and that'll still give us time to watch at least one or two movies and eat popcorn." Lorelai fixed it all, and Rory didn't bother to correct her. But Rory heard what she hadn't said outright: she had given Rory a curfew.

Rory had never had a curfew because Lorelai has always trusted that Rory would be home at a decent hour. Rory had never had friends outside of Stars Hollow either, though.

"Okay, cool. I guess I'll see you tonight, then" Rory ended the conversation, and Lorelai on the other end of the line fell to her knees, hunched her back, and sobbed like only those in despair can. Lorelai cried for the daughter she had lost to a teenager who was a virtual stranger, all the while Rory looked at that other dress she had yet to try on, and in her underwear dialed the devil's number.

"Dugrey," Tristan picked up his phone. His voice was smooth and it melted the stress right off Rory's shoulders.

"Hey," Rory whispered. Tristan recognized her voice instantly, and she could hear the guard he had put up to pick the phone up go down like houses made of sand.

"What's goin' on, Mary?" Tristan said huskily.

"I have two dresses in front of me, to wear tonight, and I can't decide. Green and Blue" Rory pouted at herself in the mirror, and she could see the glow on her body. Just talking to Tristan made her body look different to her, and she wondered if this is what he saw when he moved her.

"Nothing's just green or blue. What kind of blue is it?" Tristan asked, but what he really wanted to say was how her eyes were midnight blue in passion and clear sea blue when she was excited about something. He wanted to tell her how he saw her in shades, but refrained. He couldn't.

"Emerald green, and Sapphire blue" she whispered to him. There was something intimate about being half naked and asking his opinion on what to wear.

"Sapphire blue. Like your eyes" Tristan whispered back. He heard her ragged breathe, and groaned low. God, how he wanted her. "What are you wearing, Mary?"

Rory's breath caught in her throat. Could she? Would She? Should she? She couldn't tell him. It was too much. She was suffocating with want and uncertainty. But she could tell him a different kind of truth.

"Nothing. I always feel like I'm naked with you" Rory whispered so low that if someone had spoken behind Tristan, Tristan would not have been able to hear her. Her blush was bright and it spread over her face, torso, and lightly over her stomach.

"Put your hands on your stomach, baby" Tristan told her gently. He knew he couldn't push her too much, too soon, but he wanted to show her…needed to prove to her…

"Tristan," Rory started in protest, but her voice didn't rise.

"C'mon, baby. Just—put your hand on your stomach" Tristan commanded, and he was so filled with his need for her that he didn't realize that perhaps others could hear him. He ran his hand through his hair, and his ragged breath sealed the deal for Rory. How could she say no when he sounded how he did at night; at night when he made her fly through heaven.

"Okay," Rory put her hand on her stomach.

"Now, trail your fingers lightly down, and over your belly button," Tristan told her so softly that she thought she could feel the hairs on her nape stand on end.

"Okay," Rory's stomach was tightening and she felt so moved and wrong, but in a right kind of way that she wondered if he felt it too.

"Those are my hands touching you. That's not the air on your neck, but me breathing on you. That's _my_ desire that you feel right now" Tristan spoke passionately and Rory bit her lip and whimpered out loud.

"Rory? Is everything alright in there?" Emily knocked on the fitting room door. Rory exhaled long and hard to try to regain her bearings.

"Yea, Grandma. I'm coming right out." Rory yelled out and leaned again the door.

She didn't say anything to Tristan for a moment, and Tristan didn't say anything back. Something had changed and they both felt it. But Tristan also knew Rory was still as indecisive as ever. He knew he couldn't push for what he wanted, because she would just pull away. Tristan understood that, as well as he understood that if Rory ran, he wouldn't chase her. He had too much pride. And he would regret it for a long time to come.

"Relax, Mary. Phone sex is supposed to be fun, not loaded" Tristan joked, and for once Rory just rolled her eyes and thanked heaven for his wit. "What time am I picking you up?" he asked, and Rory noted that he didn't question whether or not he was taking her. Rory liked that she didn't have to ask. It gave her room in a weird way.

"I don't know. It's Madeline's recital?" She hoped he would know the details.

"Ahh, Adamo Nicoletti. I'll pick you up at seven," Tristan's voice didn't brook any argument and Rory didn't have any reason to disagree.

"'Kay. I'll be at grandma's…"

That night Tristan picked her up at seven sharp. He picked her up and smiled this grand smile that shook her to the core. Emily demanded they let her take a few pictures as though it were prom. Richard chastised Emily like only a man in love can do, and Emily finally let them go. The ride to the ballet was silent, except for the soft reggae playing on the radio. The song moved Rory about as much as Tristan did, and she remembered their non-encounter earlier. She remembered how it felt to imagine he was touching her, and as he drove Rory took his hand.

The car stopped at a red light, and Tristan looked over to Rory, confusion clear in his eyes. But Rory could only watch his hand, as she guided it to her stomach…

"The things you do to me, Mary" Tristan teased as he leaned the car over to the shoulder, placed it in park and soundly kissed her. He kissed Rory as though she were water and he were a cactus in the sun. He kissed her so, because she was his Mary, and he desperately wanted to be saved. She was that to him—it was confusing, the way she made him feel, but God, he wouldn't give up that feeling for anything.

"The things you make me do, bible boy" Rory quipped.

They were half an hour late to the recital. They had box seats in a balcony—apparently Tristan's family rented it out for the season. Louise and Paris were sitting in a different box, but nodded to them as they passed them by. People whispered to each other "Isn't that the Emily and Richard's granddaughter?" People inquired amongst themselves, "Do you think they're promised? That's a fine match if they are!"

Rory could feel the stares, and at nine o'clock at intermission, she couldn't take it anymore. It was too much, too soon. She begged off, and Tristan took her home. They said a goodbye with a kiss, but Tristan wouldn't be sneaking in that night. He knew she needed the rest of the weekend to herself. He knew freedom sometimes came from within, first.

Lorelai was in the living room when Rory walked through the door. They sat and watched two movies, and it was awkward and slightly tense. Lorelai tried to ask about the night, but Rory would just say "it was beautiful" but she really meant "he was beautiful." Rory went to sleep that night realizing that she'd had more fun next to Tristan, watching a remarkable ballet, regardless of the stares and whispers, than she had in the comfort of her home.

Rory realized she was a coward, and she felt like a coward. But she touched her stomach, and she felt strength. _"Those are my hands touching you…. That's my desire that you feel right now."_

Rory smiled at the memory, and kept her hand there all night as she dreamt.

~TBC~

A.N. – So, what do you guys think? I felt like you guys weren't getting enough dialogue, so hope it didn't feel like a waste of time. I wanted to give you guys some depth. Hope it worked! Anywho, tell me what you guys think!

Hate it? Love it? Review and let me know! :)


	5. Ticking Time and Northern Stars

Disclaimer – I own nothing, but if I did own Tristan, I'd keep him all to myself! *cue, evil laugh* :)

A.N. – OMG! First let me apologize to everyone for taking so long with this chapter! I literally re-wrote this chapter about a million times before I came out with what you will read down there. I really really really hope everyone enjoys it, because I seriously poured my heart and soul into this chapter.

A.N. – **Review Responses: poetryismyfirstlove – **Thanks so much! I really do try to make it as original a Trory story as I can, but I fear sometimes I fail. Well, it's the thought that counts right? :D

**Hplover1616 – **I'm so very glad that you're loving it! I'm not sure if it's finished or not. That's really up to the responses I get on this chapter. If people want me to continue it, then I will, if not, then this ending is a good place to end (I hope). Let me know what you think, and if you want me to continue! :)

**LoVe23 - ** I'm so happy that you liked that scene! I was so worried that it could come off cliché, or smutty (which is sooo not my forte). Thanks so much for the love!

**00-night-eyes-00, YaleAce, Gilmoregirls1197 – **Thank you guys sooo much for your reviews and for reading this story! I really do appreciate every single review, and silent reader, because knowing people read and enjoy my story…well, it's an awesome feeling. I hope you guys love this chapter as much as I do! ;)

_/I hear your voice in the wind, I feel you under my skin; within my heart and soul, _

_I wait for you, Adagio. All of these nights without you, All of my dreams surround you; I see_

_And I touch your face; I fall into your embrace. When the time is right I know you'll be_

_In my arms, Adagio…Forever you'll stay. Don't let this light fade away._

_Don't let me run out of faith. Be the only man to say_

_That you believe .Make me believe_

_You won't let go/_

_-Adagio by Lara Fabian_

Chapter 5 – Ticking Time and Northern Stars

Rory awoke the next morning clutching her pillow. She'd had another dream, but in this one she was on water. She had been walking on water and Tristan had been at her back, whispering "let me in, mare. Let me in." She had stepped back into his awaiting embrace, and the water had started to engulf them both. They had sunk, but Rory found that as long as she kissed him…really kissed him, then she could breathe underwater…she could breathe anywhere as long as she kissed him with reckless abandon.

She fluttered her eyes, and took in all the bright colors that hadn't existed in her dreams. She despaired for a moment, and clutched at her pillow tighter. She wanted him so badly, but she didn't want to want him. It wasn't natural…was it? She couldn't let herself feel this way… could she?

Rory clutched and clutched until she felt her finger nails digging into her own palm through the pillow.

Rory knew that a decision was coming, and fast. Too fast. It was hurling its way to her a thousand miles a minute and Rory wanted time to just stop. She wanted time to be as reckless as her and decide to take a break for a while, just so Rory could have another hour, another minute, another second to contemplate; because she knew that the moment Tristan decided to really _talk_, no matter what decision Rory had already made, she would want another second to make sure she was making the right choice.

But what is the right choice? Who can say she had ever made a right decision in her life? Rory sighed. "No one should ever be alone with their thoughts," she said to no one.

"Knock, knock" Lorelai said as she peaked her head through the cracked door. Rory wanted to pretend she was sleeping, but felt the claw of guilt slash at her chest.

"Good morning," Rory replied, slightly awkwardly. She wanted to break the ice without having to acknowledge it was ever there.

"Slept well?" Lorelai moved fully into the room and leaned against the wall next to the door.

"Yea," Rory whispered. She couldn't think about that dream. It was too raw, too soon. Lorelai saw what Rory wanted and hated the idea of not discussing what was wrong, but she didn't want to alienate Rory further.

"So, who was the guy that dropped you off, last night?" Lorelai teased. She was trying to find lighthearted banter, but she wasn't aware of how complicated a question she had asked.

"How do you know it was a guy?"

"Seriously? He was driving a red convertible. It screamed at me, 'I'm a man, hear me roar'" Lorelai smirked, and they both laughed for a moment. The tension eased out of the cracks of the room and Rory felt herself relax.

"He's just a guy from school" Rory looked away. It was the third time she lied to her mother since she became _involved_ with Tristan. It still felt good. She felt a measure of control when she lied to Lorelai. It made Lorelai very human and less all knowing and powerful.

"_Just_ a guy from school? C'mon, give me the dirty little details about him," Lorelai pushed. Her smile was still in place but it held more of an edge. "Is he tall, short? Does he have a weird nipple ring? Tattoo on his left butt cheek of a man named bubba?"

"Mom!" Rory pretended to choke on a laugh, but the truth was she was trying to conceal that there were many dirty little details about him that Rory knew and could tell. One of them being how he squirmed every time Rory sucked on his earlobe, or how he bit back a moan every time Rory bared her neck to him; they were like animals, ruled by instincts when logic didn't matter…and oh, how sweet it was. Rory shuffled her legs and warmth pooled in her abdomen at the thought of Tristan's pleasure. There was no greater aphrodisiac than his pleasure…and it burned her in the best and worst way possible. "There's nothing to tell, he's just a guy from school."

"Hn. Just a guy from school you say? Because I'm pretty sure Babette told me she's seen that car drop you off more than once." Lorelai pounced. She wanted answers. Any answer. Lorelai wanted to feel a part of her daughter's life, not a bystander…not a parent.

"So? He's given me a ride before, it's not a big deal." Rory shrugged and rolled out of bed. She forgot she had been wearing low rise sweats to bed, and there was a very noticeable hickey on her lower hip. Lorelai's gasp made Rory's head snap to her, then to her line of sight. She covered up the bruise, but she wasn't fast enough. Lorelai had seen the proof of her daughter's lies. She had seen the proof of why Rory didn't seem like the stargazing child she had been.

"Want to tell me again about how he's just some guy?"

"Look," Rory began. "I don't want to talk about him because I don't know what to say just yet. When there's something to tell, you'll be the first to know." Rory hoped it would placate her for now. She needed time. More time to decide, more time to contemplate…just more time.

Lorelai saw the conflict on Rory's face, and for once decided to try to help without pushing—'_maybe that's what parenting is all about'_ she thought.

"Look," Lorelai attempted to reason with a soft voice, and careful eyes. "You're not ten anymore so I can't shield you from everything, but you've got to realize on your own that if you're lying about anything, than it must not be good. And if you're hiding something, than it's because you're ashamed—"

"I'm not ashamed of him!" Rory cut Lorelai off with fervor. She could _never_ be ashamed of Tristan. She's ashamed of her own weakness. She's ashamed of her inability to know truly what she wants, and take it without fear. She's ashamed of so much, but _never_ of _him_.

"Okay, okay." Lorelai raised her arms up in surrender. "So you're not ashamed of him, but who is he? Is he you're boyfriend?"

"No, at least I don't think so. I don't know, who cares?!" Rory tried to explain, but she was too young. She was too ruled by the here and now, to be able to explain her need of freedom of trying to understand everything.

'_At least we're finally talking,'_ Lorelai thought with a mental sigh of relief. Talking and disagreeing, is better than not talking at all.

"_You_ should care," Lorelai responded with compassion. "You should always know what's going on in your own life, even if you don't tell me about it. Title's are there for a reason, Rory. Men…they lie sometimes. I know you might not grasp that now, because you've only ever dated Dean who loved you and would never dream of hurting you in a million years, but men lie sometimes. They tell you they adore you, and they kiss you, but when there isn't a title…all those pretty words and sentiment don't amount to much, y'know what I mean? All the flowers in the world won't make up for a guy who doesn't want to commit, and once they _touch_ you….once you let them touch you, you can't take those moments back, and there's nothing keeping them from touching someone else the way they touched you….I just don't want to see you hurt." Lorelai finished lamely. She didn't know how to explain any better, and she could tell Rory didn't want to hear any more.

Lorelai walked out of the room, into the kitchen, and poured herself a cup of coffee. Meanwhile, Rory fell onto the bed and curled herself around her pillow that she imagined smelled like Tristan. Rory willed herself to sleep, to dream of Tristan's long kisses and warm touch, to fantasize of having all the time in the world.

Monday came faster than Rory would have liked, and even worse, once there she couldn't face Tristan. Every time she caught his longing gaze, Rory's mind screamed _'more time. Not yet. Can't. Time. Time. Time.'_ And she would find herself, against her will, walking away from him. Finally, at the end of the day, when Rory was putting all her belongings back into her locker, Tristan caught the break he had been looking for.

"You're dodging me" Tristan stopped next to Rory's locker. Her shoulders tensed, but it wasn't out of misplaced anger or anxiety. Desire came over her as she heard his voice, and she hated it. It was unnatural in her mind to want someone like that, so abruptly.

"No, I'm not" Rory didn't turn around. Tristan stood behind her—closer than he knew was appropriate. But he couldn't stand it. He'd given her the weekend, but the whole day Tristan had been trying to catch her eyes and Rory would duck her head.

"Yes, you are. Why?"

Rory finally turned around. She turned around and looked him in the eyes and sighed. She had no idea why, she just knew that she felt so many emotions and they were his fault. All she knew was that she didn't know anything.

"What are we, Tristan? We go to a party, you take me to the ballet, meet my grandparents—what are we?"

"Do you really want a title, Rory, or is this just one of those things you _think_ we should have because everyone else thinks we should have one?" He pushed back figuratively. The hallway had become a battle; one of the many battles waged for no other reason, except that it could be had.

"Why do you always answer a question with a question? Why can't u just tell the truth?" Rory glared and Tristan frowned right back.

"When have I ever lied to you?" Tristan paused and sighed. He moved in closer and boxed Rory in between him and her open locker door. "What is this really about, Mary?" he whispered, but there was an edge to his voice. He was tired.

"This is about me not know whether I'm up or down with you. You touch me, and—and _touch_ me and I love it, but then you leave and I feel like I'm one of the many. You—you consume _everything_ and I don't _get_ you! What do you want from me, Tristan? I need to know what you want so I can give it to you" Rory's eyes teared up in frustration. Her tears sparkled like diamonds, but Tristan wasn't moved.

"You know what I want, Mary. You've always known. I haven't kept anything a secret from you. I want you. It's that simple. I want to parade you around on my arm, and kiss you when I feel like it, and be _with_ you. But you know all this. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know, so why the sudden need for clarification?"

Rory knew that Tristan was right. She didn't need clarification on his part. He had always made his intentions clear – every time he kissed her. She needed clarifications on her own feelings. She needed a decoder for her heart.

She looked away from Tristan. She couldn't bear to look at him, when she had so many thoughts and insecurities pinning her down. Time. Time. Time.

"Don't do this, Mary." Tristan whispered. "Don't trap yourself with a million thoughts. Whatever it is, just let it go. Whatever _this_ is all about, don't let it get in between you and me and what could be like the fucking North Star. Because you know you and me could be that epic…_that_ bright, and _that_ kind of forever."

Time. Time. Time. She needed it. No. Not yet. She needed more. Rory's heart started to accelerate.

"Look at me," he tipped her head up, and their eyes met. "No more running, mare."

The clock finally struck all zero's. Time didn't give a fuck what Rory needed. Time. Time. Time…is everlasting, uncaring, and the most ruthless thing in the world.

"No more running," Rory breathed out as she saw the sparkles in Tristan's intense, brilliant, blue eyes.

But Tristan did not make a move. Rory knew she had to be the one to seal this deal of being who they were: Tristan and Rory, no apologies for not fitting into a box that society, her mother, may want them to be put into. They were Tristan and Rory, no regrets or second thoughts.

They were almost lovers, reluctant friends, and careless teenagers, and with that final thought Rory moved off the lockers and kissed Tristan with intent. She kissed him with all the free will in her body…and time finally became reckless, and stopped.

~TBC~

A.N. – So, what does everyone think? I kinda felt like I needed more description in the dream sequence, but I had already re-written this chapter so many times that I just didn't have one more modification in me. Sorry if anyone felt they got ripped off with the lack of description in the beginning.

Anywho, Love it? Hate it? Review! :D

**Please Read:** Now, this is the moment of decision! I can end this story right here, or continue on, the decision is up to you readers. Review and Let me know! :)


	6. A Whole New World

Disclaimer – If I wished upon a star would I own Gilmore Girls and their characters? No. No, I wouldn't. If I wished upon a star would I be making profit off of this story? No, sadly, I wouldn't.

**A.N.**- Helloooooo all! I firstly just want to thank everyone soo much for showing so much love for this story. I heard you guys loud and clear in your reviews and have been working on an outline to continue this story, so it won't be plotless. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update, but I was on vacation in Europe and I didn't bring my laptop with me. I hope you guys love this chapter as much as I do!

**Review Responses: melliegirl13** – Thanks for the love, and yea, I guess it is sort of a fake out, but in a way it's not. I try to make the end of every chapter be in such a way that if I decided to never update again, I wouldn't be leaving readers on a cliff hanger or expecting more. It would be a sort of ending. I hope you like the style.

**Sammie0014 – **I'm glad that you would honor me with being the only Tristan/Rory story that you love so far. I'll definitely try to continue to do my best to keep it that way! :)

**poetryismyfirstlove –** You took the words practically out of my brain! I completely agree! I was sooo upset when they took Tristan off of GG and onto OTH, but Rory was just too judgmental at the time. She needed room to grow into someone that could be comfortable and compatible with Tristan, and sadly I did finally see that growth in their last meeting the night of the play. He called her Mary and she responded like she should have long before: WITH A SMILE AND A BLUSH AND NORMAL TEENAGE HUMOR! Lol. I'm ranting. Sorry. Onto Jess, he was like a bad version of Tristan because bad boy's are cute but they need purpose. Jess had no purpose. Tristan's purpose had been simply to show Rory how to be a teenager, which Logan did very well, but too late. That kind of…rebellion and frivolity came at an age where she could face serious repercussions. It came a little too late and only served to mess up Rory's focused compass. Better her compass be messed up at 16 than in college when it REALLY matters, I say. But eh, I've ranted long enough. Thanks again for the reviews! I appreciate them!

**Addicted2ItAll – **Thanks so much for the praise! Seriously, the fact that you believe I've done something that so many have tried to do unsuccessfully really gives me faith in my own story. I love that you're loving it and I hope that this chapter lives up to your expectations.

**Cece –** The fact that you used the word "perfect"…I love you. Haha. Thanks for the support!

**marinesgirl32 – **Awww, thanks, and I hope that I succeed in doing that in this chapter too! :)

**AlphaChica**, **Guests [plural], ringmybella, jalna, LilithFalling, IFiWEREyourLOVER, Billie333, LutzButz2687, Vengikins, sweetgirl23, Anna122, 00-night-eyes-00, Leens, JJsMommy27, Gilmoregirls1197 – **Thank you so much to each and every one of you! Seriously, reviews are love, and they encourage me to get through my writers block when I have it or my insecurities about my own writing when they spring up. It makes me so incredibly happy to know that so many of you take time out of your day to read this story and send me a review about it. Each and every one of you rock! Including those who read silently! ;)

_/My heart's against your chest, your lips pressed to my neck_

_I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet_

_And with this feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now_

…_This feels like falling in love/ _

_-Kiss Me, Ed Sheeran_

Chapter 6 – A Whole New World

You know that moment? The one where you feel like it's just you and the person who lights you on fire in the entire universe? Rory felt exactly like that the moment her lips touched Tristan's. She was in her dreams again, only she was in reality. The two meshed so perfectly that she couldn't decipher where one began and the other ended…it was so intense…so real…so _them_.

And then the wolf whistles began, and the clapping thundered around them. Rory and Tristan looked up and saw the smirks and envious looks thrown their way, and that moment when they believed it was just the two of them…turns out it wasn't.

"Let the girl breathe, Dugrey!" someone yelled from the crowd, and Rory turned beat red. Tristan saw her color and chuckled lightly.

Rory wanted to run away in embarrassment, but she couldn't. She was all in. She had promised 'no more running.' Instead, she buried her face in his shoulder. She meant it as a tactic to hide her face, but Tristan tightened his hold on her waist. She felt his breath move the top of her hair, and somehow she was burning for him. She ached, but there were too many witnesses.

"Tristan" Rory groaned. She didn't have to explain. He understood the way Paris of Troy with just one look understood Helen _needed_ him in a way that only a woman can need a man.

"Haha, alright guys. Clear the halls, you're blocking traffic" Tristan joked, but everyone listened nonetheless.

Louise, Madeline, and Paris all stood by their lockers for an extra moment. Rory couldn't hear what they were saying to each other, but she saw their eyes. Louise's looked so proud, like she had known Rory could do it—give in, that Rory couldn't help but feel a little proud of herself too. Madeline just smiled that whimsical smile that said, "awww, how cute! Now, what am I wearing tomorrow?" Paris's eyes—heck, Paris's entire face was so confusing to Rory. There were too many emotions running through her face that Rory didn't even know where to begin to interpret, so instead she buried her face in Tristan's shoulder again.

Rory blocked out the world with just his scent filling her senses. She inhaled him, hoping to bring the butterflies in her stomach some peace, but all it did was intensify them.

"You okay, Mary?" Tristan teased, but there was an undertone of insecurity that made Rory look up.

She studied his face for a moment—really _looked_ at him, and finally saw all that he was hiding. It's crazy, because it wasn't in a moment of overwhelming passion, or all consuming grief or anger that broke the barrier between them. Rory had just needed to want to see, and she did. She saw that he was just a boy like she was just a girl: both of them were too insecure for their own good, and the only difference was that Tristan hid his insecurities like a covert agent hid an alias—almost flawlessly, while Rory hid hers in plain sight.

"Are you guys going to leave, or just stand there gazing at each other?" Paris said snidely as she passed them by.

Rory rolled her eyes, and Tristan stepped back. Rory missed the warmth from his body, but there was a weight that had been lifted off her shoulders. She didn't feel as though she had to cling to the moment because she now felt secure that there would be another, and another, and another after that.

"We're going. I think there's a bunny outside that you can terrorize" Tristan poked fun at Paris. It was a sight to see, however, because he did it with a smile and in such a manner that didn't offend or hurt. It was a nice change to see Paris's rough edges countered by Tristan's polish, Rory thought.

As they walked outside Rory felt a different kind of heat inside her chest—_trust_. She trusted Tristan and she only realized it now, as she let him guide her outside, away from her friends, and into his car.

His car…how to explain the feeling of comfort, and pure relaxation that Rory felt when she slid onto the smooth leather seats? How to describe the intense split-second euphoria that washed over Rory as she pressed play on Tristan's radio and Jay Z's "Venus vs. Mars" blasted through the speakers like firecrackers through the sky?

No one in the world could ever describe those feelings, because Rory was free. She was all-in-all-the-time-there's-no-such-thing-as-an-en d-to-a-rainbow _free_.

"First reggae, now rap? Should I start calling you Vanilla Ice?" Rory joked. The car sped down the highway, sliding through the lanes like Tristan slid against Rory at night: effortlessly.

"I prefer the Man of Your Dreams, but I'll take what I can get. There's a lot of fun to be had with Vanilla and Ice, Mary." Tristan smirked and Rory could only laugh. Her laughter came from the gut because he was absolutely incorrigible and she loved it.

"Where are we going?"

"The stars"

"Is that code for something or have are we suddenly on the set of Titanic?"

"Only if either of those means I can make love to you properly," Tristan looked at Rory swiftly and he knew he'd won that spar. Rory blushed beet red from the tips of her ears to the swell of her breasts. She cleared her throat, but her mouth had gone completely dry. The images that had flashed through Rory's mind were magnificent and terrifying simultaneously.

Tristan chuckled—a husky sound—and Rory just blushed deeper.

"Relax, Mary, I won't steal your virtue in a car. Promise" he winked, but Rory was prepared for his egotistical comment.

"Don't make promises _I_ might not be prepared to keep." It took everything Rory had to get the words out of her mouth, but once said it had been worth it to see the fire in Tristan's eyes as his face snapped to hers for a moment. A sly smile graced his lips where he conceded defeat gracefully—he had been caught off guard with her comment.

"We're going to Madam La Fleur's" Tristan answered her question with such snobbery that Rory's affronted look was all he needed to bust out laughing, eyes shining like diamonds in the sun.

"Really?" Rory asked unsure, hoping the answer was 'no.' Madam La Fleur was so famous a dressmaker that even Rory had heard of her. Louise loved to get all her evening gowns fitted from her, and every time she did Louise would be denied an allowance for two weeks.

"No, not really. What would we need to go to La Fleur's for?" Tristan zigged and zagged through traffic.

"I don't know," Rory shrugged, but deep down she was disappointed and she wasn't sure why. "I guess, I thought you might be taking me to get a dress made."

"Did you want one made?" he asked seriously. He knew there was a covert conversation going on between them that he wasn't grasping just yet.

"No!" Rory attempted to reassure vehemently. "No, I didn't want a dress…"

"But?"

"But, nothing. I didn't want a dress."

"Yes, but?" Tristan was trying to get to the heart of the matter. He'd had enough subtext with Rory to last him a lifetime. He just wanted truth, no matter how embarrassing it may be.

She wished he wasn't driving so that she could just wrap herself in his arms, and speak. There was a solace that darkness and passion provided that cannot be replaced by any amount of trust or sunshine. She wished they would reach their destination.

Tristan, fed up with the silence on Rory's end, maneuvered the car over to the shoulder of the road and put it in park roughly.

"Are you crazy?" Rory exploded at his action.

"Alright, Mary. You've got my undivided attention. Now, will you tell me why you're upset?" He faced her fully, one arm on her headrest and the other on the counter.

"I'm not upset! Who said I'm upset? Now, will you get back on the road before a cop comes!" Her hands flailed in her dramatics, and Tristan just rolled his eyes.

"I'm a Dugrey. They're not going to write me a ticket. Now, will you just tell me what's wrong so I can fix it or find someone who can? You want a dress, Mare? Cuz I can get you a dress, Mary. I can get you a hundred dresses!"

"I know you _can_ get me a hundred dresses. It's not—that's not—look," she took a deep breath to calm herself. "I know you _can_ get me anything you want, but it's not about what you _can_ do."

His gaze was moving all over Rory's face but he didn't feel any closer to understanding. Confusion made him feel like he was spinning out of control, and, honestly, the feeling was more than disgruntling. "Okay, you're apparently going to have to walk me a little further into your girl logic, because I still haven't reached the appropriate understanding bit that I know I'm supposed to."

"I want you to _want _to!" Rory exclaimed exasperated. Understanding smoothed out Tristan's features and somewhere between Ellie Goulding's "Burn" and Daughter's "Touch" Rory didn't need explanations or reassurance. She saw the understanding on his face, and it was reassurance enough. She understood too.

"I always—" Tristan broke off. He knew what he felt, and he knew what he wanted to say, but it felt like too much too soon. The words that said 'I always want to give you everything that I can, but I'm worried that if I do that you'll feel caged in. I'm worried of scaring you off. I'm scared of things that I can't even understand let alone explain to you…I'm scared of you,' clogged in his throat. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair, put the car in drive and merged back into traffic.

"Don't be such a drama queen, Mary" he said roughly, but Rory just smiled softly. She understood that there were words that even boys, playing at men, couldn't say until they became men wishing they were back to being boys.

If Tristan would have looked past his shame and fears to Rory's face, he would have seen the galaxy opening up for him. He would have been able to feel the waves of gravity hitting him as she opened up her heart slightly to him. He would have been in awe of what a beautiful moment actually was…but it passed him by, and he was none the wiser.

"So where are we going, again?" Rory asked him as she lowered her windshield. The wind took with it all the tension, and all that was left was Just Tristan. Just Rory. Just the feel of awareness that they each have of the distance from one another.

"Do we need a destination?" Tristan smirked, and self-confidence cloaked him like a long lost brother. He wore it so well that Rory's body's response was immediate. She ached again, and it was delicious. It was still new, and vibrant and Rory didn't think she'd ever get enough of it. She would take this moment, this feeling, over all the dresses in the world.

'_Do we need a destination?'_

"No. Guess we don't" Rory smiled back, but there was something in her voice; there was something in the shifting of her body that gave Tristan the knowledge of her yearning…and he yearned too.

As the wind rippled through her hair and the sun burned their skins with carefree abandon, Rory realized she was embarking in a whole new world. Because, really, when had it ever been heard of that Rory Gilmore ever went _anywhere_ without a destination?

But _they_ ached…and that was enough for now.

~TBC~

A.N – Sooo, how did everyone like it? Secret time: this is one of my favorite chapters so far. I felt like the transition of emotions flowed, but I could be wrong. This chapter was sort of an introduction to the new stage of Rory's and Tristan's relationship. Sort of like a teaser. Was it too little? Unneeded? Let me know and Review! :D


	7. Battles Worth Fighting For

Disclaimer – I don't own anything except for the words that flow from my heart to the screen. Those are mine and no one can take them from me.

A.N – Hey guys! Thanks so much for the patience you guys are showing and all the love you're showing this story! I know this chapter took a long time to write, but I wanted to make it as perfect as I could for you. I wanted Tristan and Rory to kind of reach another level in this chapter and I think they did. Hopefully you do too. :) Also, **it's my birthday today**, so I thought everyone should get a present! So, happy birthday to you guys too! Haha. ;)

**Review Responses: poetryismyfirstlove** – Thank you so much for the review! I'm glad we're on the same page! I'm actually really interested to hear what you think of how I ended this chapter. Hopefully you'll enjoy it! And hahaha at the 'reverse snobs' comment. I totally agree!

**lookpale **– Awww, I'm sooo happy that you're loving it! It really makes me happy to know people are enjoying my story. And I was hoping that people thought it was more realistic, so thank you for answering that unasked question. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

**melliegirl13** – Thanks so much for the love! And I completely agree. Ah, to be young and in love! :) I would respond more to your review but I don't want to ruin the surprise for you! Lol. Hope you have a blast reading this chapter!

**gilmoreintraining** – Aww, I heard your plea loud and clear, and since I write for my readers, I gave you a half and half. I know, confusing review response. Read and you shall see what I mean! (I wanted to keep Rory in character, and I hope I did it justice!) Hope you enjoy this chapter, and thanks so much for the review. They really do keep me going!

**yoshispeach** – I am soo happy that you love all of it! I was kinda worried that the beginning of the story was a little rocky, but you made me feel soo much better about it, so thank You! It was a bit of a little, so in this chapter I tried to give you a little bit of a lot (lol!) so hope you enjoy it!

**00-night-eyes-00, JJsMommy27, darkpurplefairyprincess, melissamax22, Cece, Clg1978, Gilmoregirls1197, YaleAceBella12, Addicted2ItAll **– Thank you guys sooooo much for showing so much love and support for this story! I know it's taken me a while to write, but between work, Master's program, and re-editing a thousand times…well, you can imagine why it's taken me a while to update this. But, seriously, it's your reviews that motivate me to try so hard to make this story as great as it could be so thank you for that! :)

/_A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes. I screamed aloud _

_As it tore through them, and now it's left me blind... I took the stars_

_From my eyes and then I made a map and I knew I could_

_Find my way back. Then I heard your heart beating,_

_You were in the darkness too. So I stayed in _

_The darkness with you/ _

-_Cosmic Love, Florence + The Machine_

Chapter 7 – Battles Worth Fighting For

Rory walked into her house smiling later that evening. She felt the breath enter her lungs, the breeze sending a ripple through her hair, the lightness in her feet. She _felt_ everything and it was amazing. Tristan and she had driven around for hours, wasting gas, polluting the air, but singing to loud music and laughing to humorous songs. Rory found out that he was lactose intolerant but still loved to eat pizza. Tristan learned that Rory loved to dance to reggae even though she'd never actually danced it with anyone before. They shared secrets in between smiles and glances, and knowledge took root in their hearts. It was an age old knowledge that spoke a language many had forgotten in the time of modernism; people would call it courtly love, but the heart knows better. Their bodies spoke silently and their words said nothing and everything at the same time.

"Where were you?" Lorelai's voice broke Rory out of her momentary high and recollection. Rory froze, inhaled deeply, and turned towards the living room where Lorelai was sitting with a mug in her hand. Rory went to lie, feeling the false words wrap around her but they never got their chance to see life.

"And before you lie," Lorelai cut Rory off before she began, "I got an interesting call from my mother today. Three guesses what she was gushing about, but you'll only need one"

"Tristan." Rory said with dread. She felt anxiety catch hold of her hand, but she clenched her fists in an attempt to fight it off

"So, mystery boy has a name" Lorelai tried to tease, but it fell flat. She knew she had started this conversation on the wrong foot, but she couldn't help it. Lorelai had already been on edge with the thought that her mother knew more about Rory's life than she did, and then Rory walked in extremely past the hour she was supposed to be home and with a secretive smile on her face. Lorelai _knew_ that smile! It told Lorelai that her little girl was not so little anymore. The smile on Rory's face ruined whatever calm Lorelai had been straining to hold onto.

Rory wanted to speak. She wanted to say so much, but the teenager raging war inside of her demanded silence. The newly discovered woman inside of Rory demanded secrecy for the emotions that Tristan inspired in her.

A terrible silence sank into the air. Lorelai knew what the silence meant even if Rory had yet to grasp its meaning: apartheid. But instead of race, they were separated by age and heart. It was an emotional segregation that Lorelai couldn't bridge simply because she was not of the young and fool-hardy. She felt the gap of loneliness acutely, but Rory couldn't see it. All Rory saw was her mother with a stern face, her mother with judgmental eyes, her mother with a frown upon her lips…she only saw her mother…

"Where were you?" Lorelai broke the silence with a sigh.

"With Tristan" Rory whispered. She kept her face down because she didn't want Lorelai to see what she didn't say. Where was she? She was everywhere when she was with Tristan. He took her to a higher place of herself—within herself—that she didn't think she could reach without him.

"We've established that. _Where_ were you? Do you see the time? You were supposed to be home hours ago!" Lorelai started, but she couldn't stop. The words tumbled out of her, and she wanted to catch them. She knew that it was the wrong road to take, but her brakes were malfunctioning and her love and worry for her daughter were already at a peak—and she crashed, watching herself as she collided with the teenage wall of stubborn.

"We were just driving around, and I know I'm late, we just lost track of time. God, it's not like it's the middle of the night. It's 9pm!" Rory spoke, indignity and the beginnings of attitude laced her words. Lorelai was waiting to hear the magic word but 'sorry' never came. But Lorelai was once Rory, and so she waited her out, hoping to God that the daughter she had known was somewhere inside, lurking in the shadows of this new Rory, just biding her time to come out.

….

….

….

"Look…I'm sorry you were worried" Rory said, and Lorelai wanted to break out into a massive smile. Her daughter!, She wanted to shout, her daughter! She was alive and well, just buried inside a coffin.

However, while Lorelai was rejoicing within, Rory felt the tingles of uncomfortable-ness roving up her back. The words "I'm sorry" left a bitter taste on her tongue, even though she was sorry that Lorelai had been worried. She couldn't explain it, but it felt like she was apologizing for seeing Tristan, even though that wasn't the case.

Through Lorelai's mist of happiness she saw Rory's look away in shame. She couldn't understand, but she figured now that she knew her daughter wasn't lost to her, she could try and bring everything down to perspective.

"I'm sorry I went crazy Emily on you. I've just been worried about you and it kinda went into overload today" Lorelai smiled.

The unease that Rory had been feeling fled with Lorelai's admission. Rory could see more than a stern face and judgmental eyes; she saw the worry and the pain for a daughter that had been unreachable for a while and Rory's guilt doubled.

"It's okay. I'm _fine_."

"I know, I know. Every teen in the world is _fine_" Lorelai laughed breathily. Rory smiled meekly, and Lorelai knew that she was no longer sinking, but treading water.

"So," she continued, "how about we pop in some popcorn, watch Pride and Prejudice while you tell me about Mystery Man?"

Rory hesitated. She knew that if she agreed Lorelai would want more than she was willing to give about Tristan. Loreali saw the hesitation and pounced before the excuses could fall off Rory's lips.

"You only share what you feel comfortable sharing. No pressure, promise!"

"…Okay, let me go get changed" Rory nodded and smiled but the hesitation in her bones never left. Tristan was _hers_. She didn't want to share…she didn't want to have Lorelai judge him…she didn't want to embarrass herself, explaining something that might not make sense to anyone else besides herself and Tristan. She didn't want…but she was going to try. She was going to try because no matter how good and validated she felt while she lied and while she deflected her mother…moments like those, the guilt ate her like hounds on her flesh.

While her thoughts had ran rampant, she had changed into her pajamas, and she walked out of her room. There was nothing for her to do except sit down on the couch, watch the movie…and have the dreaded _talk_. Lorelai had already set everything up.

The beginning of BBC's _Pride and Prejudice_ sent an automatic smile on Rory's lips.

"So, have I ever heard of this kid before or is he brand new?" Lorelai teased. A simple question, she thought. But Rory tensed. It was the most complicated answer in the world for her. The Tristan who she'd groaned about being the son of Satan, had turned out to be the man himself who tempted her in ways that were irreversible…and she never wanted him to stop.

How could she explain that the same Tristan who'd named her Mary, and had earned her most stern glare, was the same man who moaned Mary and made her want to explode with emotion? She couldn't. But the look on her mother's face prompted her to try; if only for the guilt that churned in her belly.

"I've mentioned him before…I just didn't know him then." Simple, yet complex. Rory smiled. She still rebelled in her small way, through the complicated truth.

_Pride and Prejudice_ was just a reason to sit in the living room, because Lorelai could care less about the characters on screen, and Rory was too anxious to focus on them properly.

"Tristan…Tristan…are you sure you've mentioned him?" Lorelai was raking her mind for the name, but she was drawing a blank. Rory nodded, unease gripping her because she knew her mother would catch up sooner or later, or she would cop out and force Rory to explain. Either way, Rory's momentary peace would be adrift and too far off to reach.

"I met him on my first day of school…" Rory thought she should be proactive.

"You're first day? You hated your first day! The only people you mentioned your first day was Paris and the spawn of Satan" Lorelai laughed. The laugh was genuine and a ruse at the same time. Her brain had already put the pieces together—why her daughter would feel the need to hide someone she liked. Because she thought that Lorelai wouldn't approve. And she didn't, but she couldn't say that out loud.

"Spawn of Satan?!" she gasped. The gasp was for effect, to mask the feeling of dread that was slowly making its way through Lorelai's heart. "Isn't that the same guy who's teased you nonstop, calling you, what was it? Mary?"

The second Lorelai said "Mary" Rory wanted to yell at her that only _he_ could call her that. She wanted to run into a cocoon made of Tristan's arms and chest. She wanted to rip _his_ name for _her_ out of Lorelai's mouth—never to be uttered again.

"It's not like that! He's—it's just not like that, okay?" Rory had no defense. She liked him, yearned for him, and pined for him on the nights he didn't show up at her room. She was too young to articulate why, she just knew that she couldn't lose the feeling he brought her; she couldn't lose him.

"Okay, okay," Lorelai raised her hands in surrender. She knew how much thrall bad boys had on teenage girls, and she knew she had to tread lightly with the situation. "So, you like him a lot, huh?"

Rory nodded. She didn't want to share the piece of her that was still with him, but the words bubbled out like vomit, leaving a stain on the white comforter spread around the sofa.

"He challenges me in everything. Ever met a guy who just makes you look at the world around you? I mean really look, not just take in the view and continue moving. He—he kisses me and then asks me what I'm thinking, and you can tell he really wants to know, and he doesn't laugh at me or call me weird if I say something like 'why _is_ one plus one always two?' He calls me out on my crap, and he doesn't let me hide from myself or anyone else. Heck, he can make Paris smile and that's a wondrous feat in of itself….he talks me down from my stressed out, over thinking ledge and talks me up to this…."Rory finally realized she was ranting and caught herself short. She shrugged, and tried to focus on the movie.

"Talks you up to what?" Lorelai pushed. She didn't mean to push, but she had never heard Rory speak like that about Dean.

Rory figured she had already thrown down the gauntlet with her word vomit—she might as well go all the way and face the storm head on; it's what fearless Tristan would do.

"He talks me up to this—moment of intense lightless. It's a place where I want him, and nothing else matters. Not who's around, not who could see us, not who could hear us. Nothing matters outside of _us_…"Rory blushed bright, and tried to tone it down, realizing how incriminating those words sounded. "It's just a moment, you know? Nothing _everlasting_ or _Twilight_ dramatic…but it matters...to me. That thirty second moment matters to me and stays with me even when he's not around. So yea, I like him, mom. I like him and it matters, I guess."

She waited for the rant. She waiting for the barrel of questions to be thrown, but in true Lorelai fashion, she surprised even her daughter. "Hm," Lorelai grunted. "And here I thought Darcy was the only guy who could move you like that."

A Pause, and then…laughter. Rory laughed, incredulous that her words hadn't come around to bite her in the neck, and Lorelai laughed because even though her daughter liked someone who was once cruel to her…her daughter had opened up to her. Rory had spoken openly and honestly and she could respect that it was the thought of _that_ boy that had given her the courage to speak what was clearly on her mind.

The laughter only lasted a couple moments, but it was enough to break the ice temporarily. They finished watching BBC's _Pride and Prejudice_ in a comfortable silence that left Lorelai thinking about hope—hope that her daughter was slowly coming back to her, and left Rory thinking about peace—she had given up a piece of her newfound freedom tonight, but in return the guilt wouldn't eat at her for a while…because she knew she would continue to hide and deflect, because it gave her something to hold on her own, without Lorelai, and she needed that.

Once the movie finished, Rory said goodnight, and went to her room for the night. There, on her spreadsheet, staring at the white walls of the ceiling was Tristan.

She locked her door, and smiled slightly at him. He smiled back, and there was _that_ moment she had tried to describe to Lorelai, and had failed miserably. Her lower abdomen burned and licked at her, and her palms began to sweat. The world tilted in vertigo, and if Imprinting were real, she would say she had imprinted on him. She imprinted over and over and over again, every time she saw him. And without conscious thought she had walked over to him on the bed and without preamble straddled him. He sat up on instinct, and caught the fire in her eyes. His fire burned just as hot as hers.

They're bodies moved together for a moment, his forehead against hers, and her groin against his, and they felt liberated in the slight moan that ripped from Rory's lips. He wanted to kiss her, _so badly_, but he knew this wasn't about him. The fire that claimed Rory, claimed him too and he needed to cut through the passion to be able to focus on what Rory needed.

He gripped her hips tightly and pressed her harder onto him. She gasped, and he found her eyes, though it was so hard to not lose himself in the feel of her smooth skin.

"What's going on, Mary?"

Rory took a breath, and exhaled slowly. "I told my mom about you…"

"Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?" Tristan questioned. He was trying to piece together a puzzle with mismatched pieces. He was youth, trying to understand a situation the way only a grown man can.

"It is! It is—it's just…you're not mine anymore."Once the words left Rory's lips, she felt like a fool. She thought she sounded ridiculous and probably wasn't making any sense, but the words were already out; and once spoken, words can never be regained.

But Tristan understood. He understood too well the feeling of having to share—he had shared her with Dean the entire time he wanted her while she wanted _him_. He understood finally why the sudden aggression on her part that had only been present before by his initiation.

And before Rory's eyes sat the man he would one day be: Tristan, with an understanding wise beyond his years, kissed her savagely. He kissed her with teeth and tongue, and _ache_. He kissed her with surrender, and in the throngs of the _fire_ he whispered, "I'm yours. Yours, Mary. All yours."

His surrender yielded to her possession and she replied, "_mine_."

~TBC~

A.N – Soooooooooooo? What does everyone think? Hated it? Loved it? Secret: I, personally, looooooooove this ending! This is by far my most favorite ending yet. But what about you? Thought the ending was too much? Do you think they moved too fast? Let me know and Review!

**P.S.** – I don't know if any of you like Twilight, but I wrote a Jacob/Bella OneShot called "The Wanting Game" and if you're interested you should check it out, and let me know what think! :)


	8. Revelations in Adolescence

Disclaimer – I don't own, so if you sue..you..are…CRAZY!

A.N. – Thank you guys soooo much for the support and love! Seriously, it made me write this in under a month. Now, for the **important** stuff: I've outlined, and decided this story is going to have approximately ten more chapters, and then it will be complete. Expect updates once a month, since I've been on a good track with that lately. This story officially has sub-plots, but I'm trying to be subtle about it—except for one. Hope it goes well! Anyway, things are about to get a little heavy and please be honest and tell me what you guys think; whether or not I've lost my mind with this. :) Anywho, Enjoy!

**Review Responses: poetryismyfirstlove** – Thank you so much for reviewing every chapter! I've realized that you are a constant supporter of this story and that makes you super awesome! Also, that's pretty cool that we have similar tastes in music, let's see if you can vibe with the song I've chosen for this chapter *mischievous look* (lol). With that said, I've taken off the "complete" sign since a lot of people think last chapters the end. I was doing that mostly so as to not get hopes up when it takes me forever to update. But I'm soooo glad that you love this Rory, and I hope you don't hate me by the end of this chapter in regards to Tristan…things get kind of crazy!

**MIBbabe – **Hahaha, thank you so much! I really appreciate it, and I hope you like my other stories too!

**Alaskanbackdoor** – Awww, thanks so much for your kind words and that you took the time review! But last chapter was _not_ the last chapter, and I hope you continue to like it since we've officially moved into the next stage of Rory and Tristan's relationship/growing up story. :D

**Addicted2ItAll **– Oh, man, thank you so much! You seriously made me smile with your review and made my heart sing, so thank you! Hope you enjoy this chapter *anxious look*

**Melliegirl13** – I'm sooo glad that you thought the intensity was great! And I'm totally with you; if I ever found something like what Rory and Tristan have I'd probably have to be strapped down, I'd lose my mind. Haha. Hope you like this chapter…I'm definitely playing with their adolescence and decision making skills.

**JJsMommy27**, **callac**, **clg1978**, **Realityorfiction** – Thank you guys for your show of affection and love for this story! All reviews, no matter how small make me happy, and encourage me to continue writing, so I sincerely thank you for taking the time to let me know how you feel about my story. I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter, because it's going to get a bit heavy!

And as always a sincere **Thank You** to every **silent reader** and those who favorite and story alert this story! You guys rock too! ***huuug***

_/I am moving through a crowd, trying to find myself_

_Feel like a guitar that's never been played, will someone strum away?_

_And I ask myself, who do I wanna be? Do I want to throw away the key and invent a whole new me?_

_And I tell myself, no one, no one. Don't wanna be no one but me…/_

_-No one, Aly & AJ_

Chapter 8 – Revelations in Adolescence

People have a strange habit of showing real emotions, expressing honest thoughts, and then feeling too exposed. So they take it back—they revert to their old ways and act like nothing happened…but teenagers don't have the luxury of having learnt how to revert. They only know how to move forward, and so the next day brought Rory and Tristan—awkward.

Rory had seen Tristan in the hallway walking towards her, but she fled into the girls bathroom. She knew if she walked out he would be standing by her locker. She didn't want him to be there. Not today. Not when her mind replayed Lorelai's heartfelt advice from what felt so long ago, but were only a couple of days.

"_You should always know what's going on…"_ but she didn't know. Not anymore. Not after their revelations.

"_Mine."_

"_All yours."_

Her heartbeat sped up and her stomach clenched in fear and excitement. Was he all hers? She knew those words had been about more than just showing their relationship and how they felt with her mother. Their words had been about _them_. It was a claim that came from deep within themselves. Rory could acknowledge that; she could admit that the word "mine" had been ripped from a deep part from within her. She had felt herself fighting and falling, fleeing and striving for that ecstasy that came from complete autonomy and complete possession—she wanted Tristan to be hers and she had felt as though she would've died at that moment if he hadn't surrendered to her need… be he did surrender completely to her will and want and ravishment and…

Rory breathed heavily as her thoughts wandered to last night. She wanted him now…but she had to walk out the bathroom. She had to face her words. But just as her courage rose, Louise entered the bathroom and her courage fled to challenges anew.

"I saw Tristan" Louise smirked. No "hello" or "how are you?" but straight for the kill—very Louise.

"Okay? Good for you," Rory responded slightly sarcastically. She was already on edge. Just hearing his name made Rory want to clench her fists in a surge of unexplained emotion.

"Why are you hiding in here?" Louise never missed anything, but her perceptiveness always seemed to catch Rory off guard.

"Who says I'm hiding? This is a bathroom. You use the bathroom, not hide in it—ergo no hiding," Rory ranted. Louise smirked wider all the while she let Rory explain away her absence and when Rory had ended Louise spoke.

"Great! So why are you hiding in here?"

Rory knew that Louise saw right through her and she reminded herself that they were friends. Friends shared things, and frankly Rory felt more at ease sharing with Louise than with Lorelai or Lane anymore.

"I'm not hiding…per se…just," her shoulders sagged. "Just postponing. We kinda got intense yesterday and I…I don't know. I guess I'm feeling kinda weird."

"Did he drop the 'L' word?" Louise's eyes popped out.

"No!" Rory gasped. "No, he most definitely did not drop the 'L' word. We just—"

"Wait," Louise interrupted. "What do you mean '_we'_?"

"Well, it wasn't just him. We were _both_ intense last night."

"Sex or just words?" Louise wanted clarification. Rory just squirmed in place.

"A little bit of both? God! I don't even know if what we did counts as sex!" Rory started to panic. Everything was so great before she woke up today.

"Penetration, over the clothes, or oral?" Louise asked nonchalantly. Rory blushed and was about to drop the whole subject but Louise saw the emotions playing on her face.

"Who else are you going to ask?" …And Louise was right. Rory may not be comfortable having this conversation period, but better Louise than Lane who didn't even know what over the clothes meant.

"Uhh…oral. I think? What even counts as oral?" Rory was exasperated. Why was sex so complicated, she wanted to ask.

"Him going down on you or you on him. Anything else just counts like over the clothes…I think." Louise hopped up on the space next to the sink.

"You think? You don't know either?" Rory was flabbergasted. She thought Louise knew _everything_ when it came to this particular subject.

"Well, it's not like there's a handbook with all the information" Louise got a little on the defensive. Her name wasn't Dumbledore, and Rory realized she had expected too much from someone her own age. They were both figuring things out…Louise just learned some things earlier than her, was all. They both looked away for a second.

"What If there were no clothes?" Rory mumbled without looking back at Louise. Louise just raised an eyebrow, but Rory was tired of being ashamed. She raised her head and stared right back at Louise. But Louise didn't mock her. Louise smiled softly, and said, "Beats me what it's called. No clothes, but no sex, but definitely _something's_ going on. Why do we need a name for it? Who told us that was even necessary?"

Louise looked honestly lost in thought, and Rory felt that she needed to give some kind of answer to justify them both. "T.V., our parents, our friends, _society_. If we don't know the names for the stuff we do, then…I guess it kinda means we don't know what we're doing." It was logical. It was the old Rory. It was the Rory who was really Lorelai in disguise, and she hated herself for a moment.

"Well, I say _screw that!_ Don't let anyone make you feel bad about the things you do with the guy you want to do them with. You have a right to your body—_we_ have a right to our body. And so what if we're young? No one feels for us, you know? They don't feel the heat for us in that moment—only we can. Only you can." Louise went off expelling everything that was on her chest and mind at the moment. Her words were raw and Rory understood perfectly where she was coming from.

"I know, it's just weird, I guess. Like, three months ago I didn't even know what passion was outside of Jane Austen novels and now…now I feel it even when he's not touching me," Rory tried to explain.

"Oh, you've got it baaad!" Louise laughed, but Rory wasn't offended. Louise's laughter wasn't meant to hurt or mock, just some slight teasing between two friends.

"I don't think you have room to talk, miss '_Ooh Finn. His eyes sparkle and move me!_'" Rory laughed as she shoved her playfully. Louise shoved her back laughingly and shrieked when she heard Rory's imitation of her.

"Oh my God! I was drunk! And can you blame me? Have you seen his eyes?" Louise defended her words half-heartedly. They were smiling and Rory's anxiety filled shoulder's relaxed for the moment.

"Yea, but they've got nothing on Tristan's!" Rory rebutted. It was comforting to be able to bring him up in casual conversation without it needing to have some mind blowing, revolutional, reason. Sometimes it just felt good to say his name.

Louise rolled her eyes, but the smile never left her lips. "I know what you mean, though. Finn can get pretty intense sometimes."

And just like that they were back on track, and it wasn't forced or awkward. Rory would have hugged her if she had noticed the smooth transition back circle.

"Are you guys together?" Rory asked seemingly innocently. She wanted to know if Tristan and her were an anomaly amongst all the people who put labels to their relationships.

"Are you and Tristan?" Louise raised her eyebrow, smile gone. It was a defensive question meant to bring Rory up short. Neither realized that the other was in the same position: both wondering if what they were doing was right or wrong. Rory looked away again, and Louise opened her insecurity to the air. She could talk to someone who wasn't looking at her, and Rory understood the feeling of control that could engulf you when you think no one is listening or paying attention.

"You know," Louise began again, "I know there's nothing wrong with not being his girlfriend. But sometimes I feel like I'm just another notch on Finn's bed—oh yea, we've slept together. Was there ever any doubt?—but then he'll remember I bombed an exam and bring me a present to cheer me up. It's little things like that that can get you, you know?"

And Rory did know. It was in the way Tristan would stare at her. It was in the way he would love her without making love to her. Rory knew all too well about those little things, and she was helpless under it. Rory could only nod in concurrence.

Silence overwhelmed them in a moment where they were both lost in memories.

"So what am I supposed to do?" Rory asked, tired of standing in her own feelings of Limbo.

"Well, first thing you need to do is stop hiding in here! So what if you guys got intense? It happens" Louise shrugged.

"So, your grand advice is to ignore it?" Rory demanded of Louise something that she couldn't fathom to give—an understanding of Rory's mind and emotions on a level greater than a friend could ever have.

"That's up to you," Louise shrugged again. "I say, fuck it."

Rory gasped at Louise's course language, and Louise just smirked. She taunted her, "Yea, that's right, Gilmore. You can say it. _Fuck it!_ If he brings it up, wing it, but I highly doubt he will. I don't know much about the inner workings of guys, but they seem to avoid conversation about their feelings like the plague."

Rory had a flash of Tristan's words over the course of their relations, and illumination dawned. Louise was right! The most Tristan had ever said about his emotions, barring last night, was that he wanted her. Rory smiled at Louise like the sun had just been discovered. Her happiness was palpable in the bathroom. Rory felt like she had entered a new world where she was learning a completely new type of knowledge—not one taught in a classroom, but in the hallways and in the cafeteria, and while playing hooky from class. She was growing up, understanding fundamental things about human brings—social cues and whatnot…things more important than calculus…and it felt good.

Louise just rolled her eyes Rory, but her smile didn't dissipate because she remembered the day she had realized the same thing Rory was realizing—that she had an advantage over Finn; she understood something about him, a facet of his mind, while he had yet to understand her at all—and she had been over the moon and back on wings of weightless joy.

"C'mon, let's go say 'hi' to Loverboy before the bell rings," Louise jumped off the counter and pulled Rory out of the bathroom. As they walked, Tristan was clearly leaning on her locker talking to a group of his friends—Finn among them.

When Tristan saw Rory, she would never know what he saw, but something in his eyes told her that he'd been waiting for that moment—the one where she understood something about him…and the knowledge that he had been waiting for her…it overpowered her. It grasped her in its hold and without clear rhyme or reason she flew into his arms as though they had always been waiting for her body.

"Hey, Mary" Tristan smiled into her hair.

"Hey, bible boy" Rory breathed him in. "How long have you been waiting for me?" She meant by the locker, but Tristan's arms tightened around her and she knew that when he answered, he would be talking about so much _more_.

"Longer than I care to admit" he whispered…and Rory finally understood why. In that moment she could feel her emotions for him expand and spread through her chest and arms to her fingertips. She was overwhelmed but for once she loved it. She tilted her head up and kissed his chin lightly, but it was the best answer she had for him.

She knew Tristan felt the sentiment behind the peck; it was in the way his eyes darkened as his palm rubbed against her waist gently.

The bell rang, and for once she _wanted_ to skip class. She wished she was so carefree that she could instigate disobedience, but she'd been disobedient enough in her own way the last couple of months. Louise and Finn had already headed their separate way off to class, and Tristan gazed curiously at her.

"What are you thinking?" he asked softly. It was a contrast to how he made her feel—raw and rough.

"I'm thinking that I don't want to go to class" she answered honestly. She didn't want pretense at the moment. Not when pretenses were so _hard_.

"Mary, I think I'm corrupting you!" Tristan mock gasped as he ushered the both of them towards English. Rory rolled her eyes, but felt an inner peace; he hadn't suggested that she skip simply because she wanted to. He hadn't enabled a bad idea, even though it would have been so easy to do so. As Rory sat down at her desk, she realized that he hadn't enabled the idea because he knew that it would eat at her that she might have missed something important.

School was something that wasn't the product of trying to replicate her mother. School was innately important to Rory simply because it is a part of her. Tristan knew that. He could tell the difference between the Rory she wished she was, for the sake of an image or others, and the Rory that existed outside of influence. Rory didn't know when it happened, but somewhere between their repartee and caresses Tristan had learned so much of who she was.

The rest of the day went similarly. Tristan would watch her if they had a class together and Rory would think about all the revelations of the day while absentmindedly taking down notes.

The end of the day came faster than Rory would have wanted…she liked the feel of knowing that Tristan was watching her. It was erotic in a way she didn't want to dissect. The feel of his gaze trapped her and invigorated her blood.

"Why are you always lost in thought?" Tristan teased her as he walked up to her.

"Because you're not around to distract me. Clearly, I would be lost without you in my life," Rory said sarcastically, but Tristan smiled. There was always a grain of truth in sarcasm. There was always a grain of truth in everything, if you knew how to pick it apart.

They walked out of the school together and Finn walked briskly up to Tristan. Finn's normal easy going smile wasn't there, and his shoulders were too tense. Rory knew instantly that something was wrong but Tristan sent her away with a simple, "wait for me by the car. I'll be right there."

He didn't lie; the conversation only took about a minute or two but they were longest minutes in an infinitely short day for Rory. The more Finn said—which she couldn't make out from where she stood, leaning against the passenger car door—the more upset Tristan looked. At last Tristan ran his hand through his hair and responded to Finn. There was something in his face that, even from a distance, reminded Rory of the night of their first kiss. He had looked so young and unsure, but determined not to let his youthfulness take control of the situation. Déjà vu struck hard and Rory despaired thinking that something could take away the self-assured man that she had come to know him as—even if the man had been showed only in glimpses.

Tristan had finally returned to her, but there was a weight on his shoulders. There were decisions and worry in his eyes that Rory couldn't place. There was a silence that surrounded him and she knew instinctively that she needed to support him at the moment and not pester him with questions. So, when he opened the car door to let her in, she slid into the seat, put her seatbelt on while Tristan got settled into his car from his side. The engine revved up and he gripped the steering wheel hard for a moment.

Still Rory said nothing.

He shifted the car into "drive" and peeled out of the parking lot of the school. As Rory looked around through her window shield she noticed Finn and Louise were nowhere to be found. Tristan drove faster than Rory was used to him driving, and if she hadn't been sure that something was wrong, she most definitely was sure now.

But Rory remained quiet.

She could tell he needed the silence. But the silence suffocated didn't it? She wanted to help, but she couldn't speak because she knew that's what he needed of her. For _once_ she had the chance to be what _he_ needed…but her silence couldn't last forever, so she busied herself with the radio to prolong her words.

Somewhere between Medina's "In Your Arms" and Sonique's "Take Me Higher" Tristan sighed, and Rory took that as a cue to break the overpowering silence.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked softly. The music was like a lullaby on the foreground and it gave her confidence. It gave her a ground to ask because music spoke words that she was too scared to say. She didn't bother to ask if something was wrong—she had _eyes_.

"No…yes…"Tristan sighed again. There was a rest area up ahead and he pulled in. Rory placed her hand on his arm and let the warmth from her hand heal him if it could. She wished so badly that it could. She had never seen him so upset, and she wasn't quite sure how to deal or help.

"Finn was more serious than I'd ever seen him…then again I've only ever focused on him once, but it was a long night." Rory rambled. Tristan let go of the wheel he had been clutching like a life savor and lifted his hand to her cheek. There was a tiny smile gracing his lips, and Rory felt triumph acutely. His thumb rubbed her cheek lightly, and moved down to trace her lips.

"He's usually never that serious."

Silence. Rory didn't want to push, but she wanted to know. It concerned Tristan, but she wasn't sure she had a right to know. She wasn't his _girlfriend_…but it shouldn't matter. She was _his_, and that should be enough.

"There's some stuff going on in Hartford. Things I don't think we've ever had to deal with, and…it was the icing today…and I don't want to tell you or involve you but you're gonna find out, if not by me then by Louise or Paris later on." He spoke so softly it hurt Rory's ears to hear him so conflicted.

"I'll believe whatever _you_ tell me…" she said as she tried to get closer, but the driving board was separating them. It was too much separation when she wanted to be closer to him than the craters on the moon.

"Madeline's in the hospital" Tristan said quietly. Rory gasped and spat out a dozen questions a mile a minute—why, when, how, who, where?

"She overdosed." Tristan explained, and Rory looked stricken. She hadn't even been aware that Madeline was _on_ drugs! She'd never showed signs that they talked about in t.v. How was she supposed to help now? But Tristan knew her well.

"You couldn't have known. She wasn't a druggie or anything like that. First time user probably, and it got out of hand." Tristan tried to slow down the thoughts he knew were running wild in her. "She was at a hookey party and…well, that's what happened. She's going to be fine once they pump her body, I guess."

His calm brought Rory down, but then a question grasped her and wouldn't let her go until she asked, "what happened to Madeline is horrible, but what does that have to do with you? Shouldn't Finn have told Duncan?"

He sighed again, and let go of her face to rub his own face. He was trying to take the tiredness he felt and fill his hands with it instead. But Rory grabbed his hands and looked him in the eyes. Her blue eyes searched his pleadingly, until she realized what he needed was reassurance and comfort. So she kissed his knuckles and his fingertips gently. This was not passion, this was care and affection. This was deeper than something that could be flown away with a strong gust of wind or taken by a better lover. This was her telling him without words to trust her because she trusted him.

"This isn't the first time this has happened. All over Hartford, all over _our_ _school_ you're finding people drugged up or in the hospital over bad drugs, or…This has been going on for a while, and we all feel it. You live in Stars Hollow so you don't see it, and our parents who never leave the comfort of their high gates don't see it, but _us_—we see it everywhere. Today was the icing, you know? Sweet, innocent Madeline high and then on an IV drip because some assholes brought real drugs to a party? No. Just _no_. It's not okay." Tristan paused and Rory took that moment to think about everything and she remembered being at Madeline's party and people being too hyper. She remembered noticing the way the bathroom smelled funny in school. She remembered at Finn's party a crowd of people who were too sluggish sitting in a corner.

"So, why don't you guys go to the police?" Rory asked innocently. She interlocked their hands and waited. She knew it was coming, she just didn't know what _it_ was.

"You think they don't know?" he snorted. "They know, Mary. They know, they just have to play by the rules and can't do anything about it without concrete proof. Those kinds of things take time. So while they're playing politics and red tape our friends are being strapped up to hospital beds….and it's crazy because drugs are everywhere in Boston and it's expected, you know? It's a big city in Connecticut, but Hartford? We're supposed to be safe here. It's supposed to be safe."

She just held his hand tighter. She knew _it_ was rushing towards her. She was scared to reach it, but she had to.

"So what are you guys going to do?" she asked as dread filled her.

"We're going to do what we have to," He looked at her steadily. "I don't want to do anything. I swear to God that I don't, Mare, but they're looking at me to help, to handle the situation and what am I supposed to do? Say no? Finn's my best friend, and he walked up to me and said that something's got to be done…and I knew he was asking me to step up…but I'm a preppy guy. I play golf and drink bourbon when the parentals aren't around. What the hell do I know about standing up to drug dealers?"

And there _it_ was, in all its glory. Rory felt winded and scared. This was a problem for the police, but Chilton was looking at Tristan. _Her_ Tristan. She wanted to cry and cling to his arms and wrap herself within his invincible cocoon, but his sigh snapped Rory's head up and she _saw_ him. He was just as scared as her. She had to be strong for him at that moment so he could be strong for her later. She went to speak but he had already continued.

"Mary…I take you to these parties. You go to school at Chilton. Madeline could have easily been you, and I think about that. I worry that it'll all get out of control and we're gonna do nothing and one day we're gonna look up and see we're overrun by drug dealers. I want—I want you safe. I want _us_ safe, but it's not. Not while these goons practically—" he cut himself off and looked away. Rory felt his pain, and she wondered where she had been to have never noticed it. Locked away in her own pain and insecurities is where she was, she realized, and she was ashamed of herself. A different type of guilt then she had ever known crept up her legs.

"What _can_ you do? You're not going to start a _gang_ are you?" Rory teased slightly. She wanted to make him feel better. He chuckled lightly and pulled her in for a kiss. She realized as his lips moved over hers that his passion came from all his pain and worry, and he had always shared it all with her…without words.

"Definitely not." He smiled after he pulled away, "there's a fine line between handling something and doing something illegal."

His smile dropped, but his eyes were calculating as he spoke, "We paid some guys to look into the situation. Turns out the reason we're being taken over by wanna be big shots is because Hartford is a drug free zone. Yea, there are people who go out of their way to find drugs, but for the most part Hartford is filled to the brim with people who are high on prescription drugs. Not cocaine, not heroine. Not anything that's actually dealt out. My own mother is probably considered a junkie, but she gets her medication through a doctor, so the streets don't make any money—or at least that's how it was explained to me. Basically, no one _owns_ Hartford, so anyone can come and sell. And they have, in spades."

His words made sense, but Rory was panicking inside. She had to stay strong. She had to. But his words were alluding to another _it_. One she wasn't sure she wanted to hear.

"So how are you going to handle it?" she asked anyway. Her voice was small, and Tristan kissed her fiercely, randomly. She was stuck between being scared of the new world where she was privy to the inner workings of man as well as their problems, and being fearless because who taught her to fear if not her mother who moved her to a town where nothing terrible ever happened. He kissed her to wash away the fear that penetrated so deeply. He cleansed her with his kiss and made her anew—a woman who could stand by his side as he took on the world.

"We have two options. We can pay off a gang who deals, supply the money, make sure that they only deal steroids and stuff like that. Simple things that people in Hartford are already taking, whether they're sold on the street or not. They would be liable for dealing with rival dealers or gangs that would sell harder stuff. Or we can contract muscle to deal with rival dealers, and have our own muscle sell the stuff which would keep the money that we're shelling out in-house…but that second option is very borderline illegal. Actually, I'm pretty sure it's illegal." Tristan chuckled at the end. Rory glared at him balefully at that last option, but she realized, he had to explore all options. His friends were looking at him to decide for them.

"Well, the second option is stupid! You could go to _jail_!" Rory hissed at him anyway. She understood the logic, but she wasn't prepared to back him up on an idea that could cost her him.

"Relax, Mare. It's just an option. No one's running into anything. But there are issues with dealing with gangs. We would be supplying money, with no real way of knowing if it's going to use the way we want. They could keep it out of our schools and neighborhood and the places we frequent and we would be none-the-wiser if they were dealing coke somewhere else in Hartford. I'm told that you can't ever get rid of the small timers, they're like cockroaches—stomp one and five more spring up, so they'll still be dealing in the less fortunate areas of Hartford, but they wouldn't touch _us_."

"This is crazy," Rory shook her head. Her head was exploding, and she knew that he'd been dealing with the looming decision of this situation for a while—you didn't come up with all he said on the fly. Information took time. Thinking up options took time. Finding out about red tape meant that he must have gone to someone in power in the precinct. Setting up meetings took time.

"I know…I just…I guess I just wanted you to know." He said, but Rory heard what he hadn't said—he wanted her to be _with_ him. He wanted her support, and affection _despite_ everything. He was looking for validation in the same sentiment that Rory had been looking for it before her epiphany earlier in the day. This was Tristan's epiphany…if she gave it to him.

Was she ready? Could she be strong? Could she back him up? These were questions that she wasn't sure, but he was just as confused as her. All he knew was that he had to protect those he cared about. Rory didn't know if she could be what she wanted herself to be, but it was a nice change to finally try to live up to her own expectations instead of expectations imposed on her from her mother, or society. Tristan didn't have expectations of her; he would accept any reaction that she had, and her heart thumped in her chest harder for him.

She grabbed his hand and laid it on her chest. Her blush was fierce, but she ignored it. She had something to say!

"I am _with_ you. Whatever you decide, I am _with_ you. _We_ will handle it." She said passionately, and the 'we' hung in the air until Tristan's shoulder's relaxed and the air was heavy with something else…lust.

He wanted her so badly because she had risen above her fear. He was proud, and his pride led to lust. It didn't make much sense, but it was truth and he wouldn't deny it. He wouldn't deny it and she couldn't deny it as he bit his lip and let his hand slide down from her heart to her breast. She felt her passion for him pull at her abdomen, and she was slightly light headed at the flip from one conversation to a silent one.

"Mary…we should leave before I get out of hand" Tristan's voice shuddered and she saw the proof of his words with her own eyes. But instead of pulling away, she arched her back and pressed her body into his hands. She wasn't afraid of this. _This_ she knew and understood. He had always wanted her, and she had never been able to deny him that.

Their lips met, but there was nothing comforting about it. He squeezed her body and tried to pull her closer as she pulled at his hair and moaned into his mouth. They shared their breath and it was moving. They had reached a new peak of their selves and each other – now they had understanding, comfort, and passion. The list of the things they shared kept growing with every new obstacle and Rory realized that she would revel in these moments as long as could; she would fight for these moments, because that's the Rory she was becoming—a fighter. Rory, a person, not a copy.

When they pulled apart they didn't say anything. There wasn't anything to be said, as Tristan drove back onto the highway with one hand on the wheel and the other on Rory's upper thigh. It felt warm, and Rory let the heat wash away tomorrow. Everything was new and scary, but exhilarating…These moments, where the world was opening up in every single way imaginable—good and bad— while the person you wanted was next to you, were what made growing up _worth it_.

~TBC~

A.N. – Sooooo? What did everyone think? I told you guys it was going to get heavy, I just wasn't sure if you guys would be receptive to it. I am NOT making Tristan some king pin illegal bad ass! Don't get me wrong, I love that kind of Tristan but that's not him in this story. This story is more of a "growing pains" kind of story.

**I really want to hear what you guys have to say about this chapter!**

**Loved it, hated it, think I need to seriously rethink my plot bunny? Let me know and REVIEW! **


	9. Lego House

Disclaimer – I own nothing, but my still beating heart.

A.N. – I just want to say how wonderful I think everyone is for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing! Also, I hope everyone enjoyed their holidays, and here's this month's update. This chapter is more for pacing and transitional purposes (so next chapter doesn't feel like it slapped you in the face), but hopefully it's equally enjoyable. Hope everyone likes it!

**NOTE: You may notice something a bit different about my writing style; just trying something slightly different for effect. Tell me if you hate it.**

A.N. – **Review Responses: clg1978** – Thanks so much! And I'm so happy that you like Rory coming out of her naïve-ness. There's something about clueless Rory that rubs me the wrong way. Hopefully by the end of this fic she'll be waay out of it, but ehh, no promises. You know stories can take a life of their own. :D

**luvnliason08 **– Yaay! I'm so glad you like the new twist. I was worried it might not be well received, or that it might be perceived as I'm turning Tristan into a gangster which I'm definitely _not_. Thank you so much for your kind words, they seriously motivate me to try harder every single chapter. Hopefully this chapter will be up to your expectations.

**alaskanbackdoor** – Hehe, yea, the plot twist kind of surprised me too, but after I wrote it I just knew I had to follow through and keep it! I sincerely appreciate your kind words about my writing; they keep me trying harder every step of this story. And I think so too (about Louise)! I feel like she never gets enough love in Trory stories. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

**melliegirl13 **– Hahaha, it really did get intense, didn't it? :D I cannot tell you for sure if nothing bad comes out of it, but I can assure you that things are going to get complicated as the chapter progresses. I'm trying to pace the story but..well, it can be very hard. Hope you like this chapter as much as I liked writing it!

**Addicted2ItAll **– Awwww, I am soo happy that I did your experience (and so many people's out there) some kind of justice in this fic. And as for how I do it, I honestly think sometimes I'm still a teenager inside! Haha! I honestly am so moved that you enjoy my writing and this story. Hope this chapter is deserving of your high praise!

**00-night-eyes-00**, **melissamax22**, and **JJsMommy27** - Thank you so much for the love and appreciation that you guys show! Your simple yet encouraging reviews keep me going and make me smile every time I receive a notification. Seriously, I look like such a creeper in the middle of the day smiling because of a review! Anywho, hope you all enjoy this chapter!

**To all silent readers, and followers** – You guys rock too! ;)

_/I'm gonna pick up the pieces, and build a Lego house. If things go wrong we can knock it down_

…_And it's dark in a cold December, but I've got you to keep me warm. If you're broken_

_I will mend you and I'll keep you sheltered from the storm that's raging on now_

_I'm out of touch, I'm out of love, I'll pick you up when you're getting down_

_And out of all these things I've done, I think I love you better now/_

_-Lego House, Ed Sheeran_

Chapter 9 – Lego House

Tristan loved to watch Rory laugh. Her eyes lit up and her face was brighter than a chandelier—he thought. But her face was more somber than the grave as they walked through the sliding doors in Hartford Medical Center. Her eyes were the dark color of sadness and Tristan reached for her hand.

They were at the elevators, and Rory's body tensed with anxiety. She was nervous of what awaited her in Madeline's room. Would Madeline be pale and yellow? Would she have sunken, bloodshot eye? Or would she be her happy, bubbly self, regardless of the circumstances?

Tristan knew that the wait to know was worse than how Madeline probably was, so he squeezed her hand. She looked up at him—startled at his gesture, but grateful.

"Stop worrying, Mary," Tristan said gruffly. He felt too off-kilter with the situation—vulnerable in a weird way. Yet nothing had changed at all. He always felt vulnerable where his "Mary" was concerned.

"I can't help it!" Rory glared at him. He'd missed her glare—oddly. "What if Finn was down playing how sick she really is? What if he didn't _know_ how sick she is, just that she was here?" Rory quieted though she had so much more to say. She saw the guilt eating at him. The blame he felt wrote stories in the shape of his back and arms. The shame he felt for inaction, so far, sat proudly on the light laugh lines on his face.

She knew he had nothing to feel guilty for, but she knew he felt it. She didn't know how to help him while her worry for Madeline's condition took precedent.

Rory longed to be in Tristan's arms, taking comfort and hopefully giving some. She just had to be strong. Just for now. Soon. Soon, Tristan will engulf her senses and make her worries disappear with candlelight kiss—with moonlight loving. She just had to be strong till then, Rory mentally prepped herself up.

"She's your friend, and you're sad she's here. I get that," Tristan tried to soothe her as the elevator arrived and they stepped on. "And I'm _so_ sorry that you have to go through this." Self-deprecation littered his tone and Rory looked sharply at his proud face. She felt disgust—at herself. She, in her infinite selfishness and blindness, had brought such a proud man to his knees…his apology was the worst thing he could have ever said to her.

She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to show him what she felt.

"Don't." Rory tried to explain, brokenly. "Just _don't_. This isn't on you. I just—Don't you _ever_ say you're sorry to me again. Okay?" Rory wanted to say so much more, but they elevator doors opened and…Tristan smiled. He smiled, because though she hadn't been able to explain properly, he had understood. Tristan's smile was small, but sincere. He wanted to shove her into his arms so roughly, so abruptly, that he almost didn't catch the impulse.

Rory saw the small action anyway, and she saw the want clearly in his eyes. She _saw_. And the sudden sight made her laugh breathily. It was short, and replaced with a simple smile a moment later, but it had been there.

Tristan's heart felt like it would burst when Rory's breathy laugh reached his ears. He felt sanctified. He reached for her hand again as they stepped off the elevator. He might as well have reached for her heart at that moment—Rory would have given him anything, if he had asked.

"Just breathe, Mary," Tristan whispered as they approached Madeline's room. "Just breathe. I'm right here."

"I know,' Rory said simply. It was truth. It was her way of saying she trusted him. _Trust_. The concept was slightly foreign to Rory. She had never trusted Dean, not the way she does Tristan. She had never trusted her Father, considering his in-and-out status in her life. Her grandparents were stable, and honorable, but did she _trust_ them? Did she even trust her own mother?

Too many questions, too soon. Soon. She would analyze her psyche later, when her heart didn't feel filled to the brim.

"How long are you guys going to stand in front of my room, being creepers?" Madeline's voice rang out and Rory laughed brightly. Madeline sounded like she always had, and the world looked a bit brighter than usual. Rory let go of Tristan's hand and walked in, seeing Louise, Paris, and Duncan in the room. Tristan had let Rory's hand go, but he held on to that invisible, intangible, look that Rory had given him. That was his.

"Bet you I'm the hottest creeper _you've_ ever seen?" Tristan joked as he entered behind Rory.

"Yes, I'm sure Peewee Herman said the same thing too. Look what happened to him," Paris's sharp words retorted naturally. Rory, Madeline, Tristan, and Louise smiled in merriment.

"You thought Peewee Herman was hot?" Duncan said aghast. Paris glowered, while everyone couldn't help but laugh. There was no ice to break—they were friends.

Greetings were exchanged and pleasantries maintained for the sake of propriety. It was all ingrained from childhood for them all, except Rory. Rory noticed the light atmosphere. She noticed the way everyone just enjoyed the fact that Madeline really _was _okay. She noticed the way Tristan would talk, but his eyes would trail over her body.

She loved the way he looked at her. If life were a war, the way he would languidly gaze at her would be a strategic tactic to make her weaken. To make her _his_. Always…and in a heartbeat, Rory's smile froze. She realized. She _knew_.

She was thankful—overwhelmingly, heartbreakingly, incomprehensibly _thankful_.

She watched him as he talked about insipid things. He joked with Duncan, ruffled Paris's hair, and smiled gently at Madeline. He was strong, and poised, and trying _so hard_ to be what they all needed him to be. Rory couldn't have asked for a stronger man.

She joined in the conversation and stayed for more than an hour—it was a beautiful hour, like a fleeting sunset.

Later on that same day Rory walked through the door in her house to find her mother home. It was a strange sight to see Lorelai home so early, but not so out of the ordinary that Rory felt compelled to ask.

"Hey, kiddo. A little late for you to be coming in, isn't?" Lorelai asked nonchalantly. She poured Rory a cup of coffee and Rory sat at the table. She was exhausted but she knew she couldn't dodge her mother forever, so she'd rather not try.

"Yea, was at the hospital visiting Madeline" Rory sipped her coffee slowly. Now that she wasn't surrounded by Tristan's warmth, she had too many thoughts. They were hurtling at her a thousand miles per hour.

Strong. She had to be strong for Tristan. For Madeline. She had to be strong for herself…because she wanted to be.

"What?! What happened to Madeline? Is she alright?" Lorelai threw questions at Rory like any concerned parent. She meant well, but it grated on Rory's nerves. She didn't want Lorelai to be concerned, though she knew it was illogical.

Concern from Lorelai made Rory feel helpless; it reminded Rory that she had not been there to help Madeline, and that she could do nothing to help any one of her friends now.

"She was sick. They had to take her to the hospital yesterday, but she's better now. She'll be out sometime today or tomorrow," Rory lied. She had no idea when Madeline would be out of the hospital, but once she omitted the drugs, she couldn't stop. She had to complete the lie, and she did so with impunity. She did it and remembered the times, weeks ago, that a simple lie to Lorelai felt _good_.

"Oh, well, I hope she feels better. So, I have some news you might not like," Lorelai sat down at the table across from Rory. "My mother has decided that it's time we had a dinner…" she trailed off.

"We have dinner every Friday" Rory spoke slowly. Dread filled her stomach. She knew where this was headed, but she let Lorelai tell her anyway. It bought her time.

"Yea, but not with Tristan. She wants to invite Tristan and his parents to this Friday night's dinner," Lorelai said sympathetically. Rory didn't need sympathy. She needed Emily Gilmore not to put more pressure on Tristan's broad shoulders which already carried so much weight.

"She's already made the arrangements hasn't she?" Rory asked tersely, but she already knew. Lorelai nodded, but wisely stayed silent.

Lorelai observed Rory for a second and saw small differences that hadn't been there a few days before. She saw the tense line of her brow and the stiff stance of her shoulders. There was a fierceness in Rory's eyes that hadn't ever been there and Lorelai honestly felt like her daughter was once again being recreated before her eyes. She wanted to ask what had happened that could change Rory so drastically. Lorelai wanted to know what happened that caused such strength to wrap itself around Rory like a shield.

Lorelai knew without a doubt, and with no proof but her motherly instinct, that Tristan Dugrey had something to do with it. She hated him for it.

Rory went to her room afterwards and tried to dream, but her dreams left her empty. Her dreams had milky ways that forced her to drown. Her dreams held stars that were too distant no matter how much she ran. Her dreams didn't have one person she cared about in them.

"Hey, you're okay, Mare. You're okay" Rory awoke to Tristan smoothing her hair out of her face. He was leaning over her, and she noticed how long his eyelashes were. He must have climbed in through the window while she slept.

She wanted him to closer.

Rory buried her head in the crook of Tristan's neck, and inhaled like his scent could save her from sin. She lifted her arms and trapped him in an embrace that forced him to either fall on top of her or be at an awkward angle.

Tristan chose neither; he wrapped his arms around her and pivoted his body so he was lying against the headboard and Rory was practically on top of her. He rocked her lightly and shushed her until she calmed down.

"Want to talk about it?" He whispered. His warm breath ruffled her hair and Rory felt a longing for him pull at her abdomen. She _felt_ which was more than she had in her dreams.

"Do you think I'm distant?" Rory said against his neck. She didn't want to move. Not yet. Not when his solidness was so stabilizing.

"What?" Tristan moved his head to get a better look at Rory, but she refused to budge. "What is this about?"

"I—I dreamt that I was all alone. I didn't have you, or my mom, or anyone. It was just me, and it was so lonely. And I know psycho analysts say dreams are supposed to be reflections of reality—" Rory whispered hesitantly.

"You are _not_ alone," Tristan interrupted fiercely. He wished he was Moses and could part the sea of her doubt; she heard the want of wishful things in his voice.

She wanted to share, but she wasn't sure _how_ to. She remembered that men—Tristan—didn't like talking about their feelings too much. She didn't want to add to his burdens. She didn't want to be one of the burdens.

"_Mary…I take you to these parties. You go to school at Chilton. Madeline could have easily been you, and I think about that.''_

Rory remembered his words and realized she already was a burden. His emotions for her were a kind of burden.

"I know. I know I'm not alone…but do you think I'm distant? Do you think I don't let you _in_ enough?" Rory asked as she pulled away, and righted herself on his lap properly. She wanted to be as close as possible. She wanted him to make her moan so she could forget her dream and her sudden insecurity.

"I think," Tristan rubbed his thumb on her cheek, "that you let me in plenty…is this about the dinner?"

"So you know already," Rory looked away. She hadn't realized how much the thought of the dinner had bothered her until Tristan mentioned it. She felt him nod and leaned forward. She let her forehead fall on his slowly, and just breathed for a moment.

The words were on the tip of her tongue. She had to expel them from her body, her mind. She _had_ to, but what if he said that she _was_ a burden? Would she offer to leave his life? Would she refuse to go, though she knew she was an added problem in his life?

Rory wanted to believe that she would sacrifice her happiness with him for his sanity, but God forgive her, she doesn't think she would. Not when the memory of his kisses are branded in her skin. Rory doesn't think she could let him go when she felt the heat of his touch in the middle of the night when he was long gone.

"Talk to me, Mary," Tristan pleaded quietly; that was all Rory needed for the words to be exercised from her.

"I'm worried that this dinner is going to add more pressure on you than you already have. I _know_ this drug problem has you worried, and I _know_ you feel guilty for what happened to Madeline. But you don't have to feel that way because _it wasn't_ your fault. It wasn't! And I get so mad thinking that even though I say it, I'm not really helping because you still feel like it is…I just don't…want to be a burden to you…" Rory sighed.

For a moment neither moved. They shared in the silence and in the air and in their youthful emotions of blossoming _everything_.

"You could…_never_ be a burden to me" Tristan dragged his lips across her lips and dug his hands into her waist and hair. He felt his emotions too strongly at the moment—too passionately. But his passion translated into a language Rory hadn't been aware she knew, and she understood. She felt relief quake in the sagging of her shoulders and she gripped him just as tightly as she kissed his neck and anywhere else she could reach.

"Those _fuckers_ are gonna pay, Mary, I swear it," he said ruthlessly, but caught himself up short. It was too much, too soon for him. His emotions on that particular topic were too raw. Instead he refocused on Rory and what she needed at the moment.

"I know this dinner isn't ideal," Tristan pulled away for a moment, "but _we'll_ deal with it like _we're_ dealing with the drug issue and Madeline's recovery and anything else that comes our way. Okay?"

Rory nodded, but Tristan continued on. "And if your grandparents or my parents ask us what's going on, we'll tell them to mind their own business! Don't look at me like that, Mary, we're sixteen. Teenagers aren't known for their eloquence or their tact. They should be grateful I don't tell them to go to he—"

Rory gasped, and Tristan smiled and backtracked.

"Okay, okay," he rolled his eyes, "the point is that you aren't the burden or the problem. And it's okay to not want to share what we have with anyone else. It's okay if we just want to _be_, and for us to say that if they push too hard. But this dinner? This dinner should be the _last_ thing that you should worry about."

Rory smiled at him, that carefree you've-lit-up-my-life kind of smile.

"And what is it that we have, exactly?" Rory asked coyly. She was teasing him because she wanted to see him flustered. He wasn't.

"We have _everything_ that's worth having, Mare. Everything that anyone with a beating heart and a warm body could want," Tristan smiled tenderly back.

His words struck a chord deep within Rory, and her eyes grew tender.

"We do," she agreed. "I just don't want to lose you, I guess. Not when we've _just_ become _more_."

Rory had no idea what "more" was, but that was exactly what they had become. They've moved past the physical and the shallow.

Tristan let out a dry laugh and whispered caringly, "You won't lose me, Mare. North Star remember?"

_North Star._ _Mine_. _All yours_.

Rory did remember. She remembered and it was enough. Tristan saw the recognition in her eyes and felt the tension leave his body.

"_Don't do this, Mary." Tristan whispered. "Don't trap yourself with a million thoughts. Whatever it is, just let it go. Whatever this is all about, don't let it get in between you and me and what could be like the fucking North Star. Because you know you and me could be that epic…that bright, and that kind of forever."_

"You…" he hesitated, nervous. He licked his lips and continued, "You're my sanctuary, Mare. You may not know it, and I sure as fuck don't promote it, but you are. Your _kisses_ can erase all the shit in the day, and well—"

It was Rory's turn to shush him. She put her index finger on his lips and he teasingly licked it. Rory smiled and shook her head.

"North Star" she said, and that was all she needed to say. What they have could be like the North Star and _nothing_ was going to stop them. Not a dinner, not her random insecurities, and not the drug dealers in the area.

Rory leaned in and let her kiss fill the space between them.

Strong. Soon she will be strong, but until the moment when she was, she would kiss Tristan and gain strength from him little by little. She would gain strength from Tristan until the day came when he needed strength from her, and she would give it all right back.

Tristan, filled to the brim with his desire for Rory, felt the difference in her kiss. She kissed him, not with the yearning of adolescence, but with purpose and impunity.

_North Star._

He loved the way she bloomed from a carnation to a rose under his touch, and he loved each difference. He loved her sighs when he touched the sensitive skin on the back of her knees, and the way she clutched at him when he dived into the slope between her breasts. He loved that he could hear the echo of her laughter while she moaned beneath him.

_Mine._

Tristan craved for her deep affection so much that he brought her to the brink of ecstasy over and over, to assure himself that one day she would want him as much as he wants her.

_All yours._

But until then, he was happy to give her strength through his kisses; he was content to have her kiss him with purpose and care.

And the world? It could wait.

~TBC~

A.N. – Sooooooooooo? What do you guys think? I have no idea what kind of feel I was going for in this chapter except for _real_, whatever that may be. Do you think I succeeded or failed epicly?

**Anywho, let me know your thoughts, and REVIEW! :)**


	10. Bottom of the River

A.N. – So, I almost did not make it for this month but, yaaay, I did! By the by, hope everyone had a wonderful Valentine's Day! (Mine was seriously boring and lonely). So without further ado…dum dum duuum!

**I am sooo sorry that there are no review responses, but I'm rushing to post this before this month expires in 20 min and I figured you guys would want a chapter instead of responses~ But I love you all who reviewed (and those of you who read silently, too)! **

_/Hold my hand, oh baby. It's a long way down to the bottom of the river._

_It's a long way down, a long way down/_

– Bottom of the River, Vocal Rush

Chapter 10 – Bottom of the River

"Is there a reason we haven't had sex yet?" Rory asked as Tristan and her walked up to the doorway of her Grandparent's house.

"Where the heck did that come from?!" he choked out. His eyes were wide in surprise, but there was unease set in his shoulders. Rory knew her comment was left field but the thought had been eating at her for a few days.

Tristan had shown up as usual, and he had brought her to the brink of such pleasure that she was sure her mother could hear her through Tristan's muffling kiss. Her body had been branded _his_ and yet…he stopped. His body had been pressed down on hers, his need for her rubbing against her noble virtue…and yet he never tried. He never let himself get too lost in the moment with her.

She was perpetually in a moment, created by him, but alone.

Rory had asked Louise her thoughts on the matter, but Louise simply replied, "Ask him," as though it was that easy. But it wasn't easy, not for Rory. Rory who had always been so…frigid. Chaste was a word to describe Rory with Dean, and that had been an upgrade. The things she did with Tristan…it was otherworldly for her.

It's such a great leap that Rory herself forgets sometimes that she's still new at playing at being an adult—or better yet, at playing at being a teenager which is _so_ much harder.

"Mary," Tristan breaks her silence. They're in front of the door but haven't rung the bell. He wanted this, whatever _this_ was, to be settled before they braved the forces of family censure together.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "It's just, we're always doing _stuff_, but we never seem to get _there_."

"Is that a problem?" Tristan looked at her warily.

"No!" Rory laid her hand on his coat sleeve suddenly. "No, it's not a problem…I just don't understand why…"

The moment where Tristan had to decide whether to push them forward or keep them stagnant approached so suddenly that it almost slapped him in the face.

"I—" he paused. He didn't want to be a jerk, but he didn't want to lie.

"I'm sorry!" Rory said suddenly, doubting herself and the conversation. "I know this is so weird. Forget I said anything."

Tristan smiled softly; her reaction baffled him the way only a woman can and it strained his heartbeat in an unfamiliar manner. _Mine._

"Don't be sorry," he invaded her personal space. "The truth is that I'm a guy, Mare. I fuck around more than I should and I'm never as sorry as I should be…but…you're my Mary, you know. I _care_." He finished uncomfortably.

Rory remembered that men didn't like to talk about their feelings, but she didn't understand his answer. She also knew that she couldn't explicitly tell him she didn't understand.

"Okaay," she opted for a typical default answer instead.

Tristan ran his hand through his hair in similar understanding—he didn't really understand himself either. "Look, I just don't want to be a dick, okay?"

"How would you be a d-jerk?" Rory re-phrased while blushing profusely. She felt something foreign within her chest—shame, affection. She wasn't too sure, but it was disconcerting and made her squirm under Tristan's gaze.

"C'mon, Mare," Tristan smirked, but there was a hard edge to his eyes. "Even I'm not that clueless to not know that if I pushed you to go _there_, I'd be a dick. Heck, I think that the fact that I've made you feel unwanted by _not_ pushing still ends up making me a dick—"

"I don't feel unwanted!" Rory interrupted with sudden anger. "I _don't ever_ feel unwanted when it comes to you. I've never felt more wanted and sexy," she blushed, "so I don't even know where you would get that."

"You _are_ sexy," Tristan smiled, and it was beautiful. Rory went to step away but Tristan just wrapped his arms around her and refused to let her budge.

"Look at me, Mary," he whispered. It was as though if he spoke louder the wind would steel his words. He was terrified. "I want you. Don't ever doubt it, because I've never _not_ wanted you since the day I met you and dubbed you 'Mary'. But I won't be _that_ guy. _I_ kissed you at Madeline's party. _I_ came into your room. _I've_ escalated us at night. I won't be that guy who you can blame for pushing you over the edge. I _can't_ be that guy, and I won't let you be that girl—that girl who pleads deniability because of naivety until it was too late to stop or care. We're _not those_ people."

The words felt heavy onto Rory's shoulders and she felt the caress of Tristan's breath on her face. He was being honest, brutally so. Frustration begged Rory to crumble. Confusion curled it's wings around her—it was a shroud of blissful ignorance. She knew that the moment she did understand, she would never be the same again. _Too many hurdles. Too much. Not enough time._

"So, what does that mean?" Rory whispered back. She was scared to know, but in too deep to not ask.

"It means…that if you want me, you're gonna have to come get me." There was a finality to the statement that made Rory feel like she were on the precipice of an awakening.

Could she take him? Did she have that _ability_ in her? The ability to take without restraint, without fear…but she was always so afraid of _life_, of living. Living was a tentative discovery for Rory, while it was an automatic and integral part of Tristan; he didn't know how to live without living.

Tristan turned toward the front door then; he wouldn't coddle her. Not with this, so that later he could be blamed for cajoling her into taking what _she_ wanted. He wouldn't be accused of being a different type of monster—the worst kind: A man who convinces others to want what he wants.

The ringing of the bell snapped Rory out of her hesitation and she threw her arms up around him. It was an awkward position but she didn't care. She couldn't let the door open without her having explained that she _wanted_. She wanted _so bad_. Tristan wrapped his arms automatically around her waist. His eyes bore into hers like God; like love; they were tender and his hands were soft—the heat permeating through her coat.

"I—" Rory started but Tristan interrupted her. Words were inadequate. They were past the need to profess everything.

"Show me," he said roughly, overcome with all types of emotions he would never admit to. His hands tightened around her, and she whimpered. She _wanted_ and _needed_ and the door opened to show a ruffled Emily Gilmore rebuking the maid.

"For God's sake La Fleur! How difficult is it to open a door? Poor Rory and Tristan must be freezi—" Emily cut herself off as she took in the sight of Rory slowly untangling herself from Tristan. The need to scream and moan and cry was curling within Rory so tightly that she feared moving too quickly, lest it snap.

And if this overwhelming feeling snapped right then and there…there weren't words for the destruction and pleasure it would reap.

"Hey, Grandma" Rory smiled slowly. She breathed slowly. She walked forward to hug Emily slowly. Everything was done with caution so as to not let her emotions for Tristan loose.

Tristan saw her sudden nature and acted slightly faster to make up for her lack. He charmed and laughed throughout the pre-dinner drinks. Tristan's parents couldn't make it because of a prior engagement—they had tried to cancel but the people wouldn't take no for an answer, and it helped that they were in bonds. Janlan Dugrey was there and reminded Rory a bit of Santa Claus without the long beard. Janlan had a warm manner to him that told anyone that he must have been a killer with the women when he was young. But he was also direct which spoke volumes and told Rory just why he and Richard Gilmore got along so well.

There was only one hiccup in the whole evening where Tristan tensed. His body coiled so sharply and suddenly that he had to lean his forearms on his knees to hide his reaction. Rory covered his behavior by pretending to jostle him forward—they were so in tune to each other.

_Together_.

Emily had wanted to know how long they'd been seeing each other and how they met; Richard cared only for his academics, and Janlan only wanted to reminisce on days of him and his deceased wife (Emily and Richard had already sung Rory's praises beforehand). But through it all Tristan fielded the question and inquiries towards him to give Rory space and time to get situated.

Rory only needed a few moments, but he continued to field most questions anyway. He was being thoughtful and Rory liked him deeply for it—the kind that creates stars in one's eyes.

It was this feeling that sparked defensiveness on Tristan's behalf, and pulled a frown onto Rory's lips when there was a lull in the conversation and Lorelai decided it was her turn to interrogate Tristan—she was ruthless.

"So, Tristan," Lorelai spat his name. "I know your GPA, how long you've been seeing Rory and all the places you would like to study, but I don't know what you plan to study or how you actually feel about my daughter."

Silence. But all eyes were on Tristan. Rory knew that Tristan was grasping at all the patience he had to not tell Lorelai that it was none of her business. She was grateful on some level for his attempt.

"I'm not quite sure what I want to study yet," he started tersely, "and as far as my feelings for Rory, she knows how I feel."

It was a polite "fuck off" but a "fuck off" nonetheless. Lorelai heard the comment for what it really was and went on complete battle mode. She disliked him. She disliked him for the same reason Rory adored him: he wasn't Dean; he wouldn't let her lead him in a conversation he didn't want and he wasn't an open book and he wasn't shy or pliable.

Strangely enough, the second that Rory saw the war raging in Lorelai's eyes was the most comfortable she was all night. It was contrary to the girl she'd always been: stressed and anxious about most situations that were out of her comfort zone…but that was just it, wasn't it? _This_ was something she didn't have to worry or stress over because Tristan excelled at battles.

"Rory knows what she wants to study in college. She's known since she was ten years old," Lorelai hit him hard with the message everyone heard: _You're not good enough for her._

Little did she know it was a very real insecurity for Tristan. But he wouldn't let her see. He wouldn't break. _Not now. Not ever. _

"I'm sure you'll agree that ten years old isn't the age to make life altering decisions," Tristan smirked mockingly. _Bring it on_.

He had to keep the little voices that were telling him that Lorelai was right, back. He covered them with shadows in his mind, and focused on the verbal battle he was facing.

"She's not ten anymore and she's never once faltered. She wants to go to Harvard" Lorelai pushed.

Everyone watched the verbal ping pong, but Janlan's eyes no longer had a spark; they had a hard edge that reminded Rory of Tristan…they were exactly Tristan's eyes.

"Yea, well, Harvard is a great school but so are Princeton and Yale and Columbia, and countless others. Harvard is a great goal to set but it can't be the end-all be-all. Things change sometimes."

"Too right you are, Tristan. Yale is my alma marta" Richard interjected smoothly.

"Princeton, mine" Janlan countered. There was a healthy ribbing about which was better, but all the while Lorelai could barely breathe.

_Things change._ No. They couldn't. Not her Rory. It had always been all or nothing for Rory, but as Lorelai watched Rory silently interact with Tristan, _she knew_.

Things _were_ changing and she hated it. Lorelai went to speak but Rory decided it was high time to end Lorelai's crusade on Tristan—never let it be said that Rory didn't know how to defend what was hers. _Mine_.

"Tristan might not know what he wants to do, but whatever it is, he's gonna be great" Rory stepped in firmly. She honestly believed it.

"No one with eyes doubts it," Janlan said. Lorelai wanted to call him old and senile, but paused. She realized that she was acting childish and irrational. She was verbally attacking a sixteen year olds character and he was confidently and efficiently deflecting her.

For a moment Lorelai could see what Rory sees when she looks at Tristan: a boy who was strong enough, bold enough, and proud enough to change the world one day.

_But Rory…change…can't. _

_Yes_. She could, Lorelai decided. She wasn't the child here.

"Maybe you will change the world one day," Lorelai silently apologized to Tristan. She expected a "whatever" for her effort. She expected an eye roll—_anything_ juvenile for her to latch on to.

Tristan simply nodded his head in recognition of her sentiment and moved the conversation swiftly onto another topic. He could care about starting drama with Rory's mother, especially knowing how she feels about her; Rory may hate her somewhat like all teenagers despise their parents, but she still loved her and would choose Lorelai over him. If that were to happen, Rory would forever resent Lorelai, but she would do it.

Lorelai, unknowing to all that went on in Tristan's head, grudgingly respected him – but Rory? Rory was so damn proud that her face lit up like the northern lights.

_They_ were like the northern lights. But that night, Tristan didn't climb into her bedroom. Tristan had made himself clear: if she wanted—but she did want! She just had to prove it, now.

Two months passed with Rory pondering the "how" and Tristan not visiting during the night.

English class with Mr. Medina was usually her favorite class of the day, but not today. Her heart was pounding and her legs were jittery and her stomach kept rolling and rolling.

"What's wrong?" Louise whispered next to her.

"I need to," _gulp_, "_seduce_ Tristan," Rory whispered back, cheeks red.

Louise's eyes bulged the size of meatballs. Her smirk was absent and in its place stood a mirthful smile that Rory would have appreciated had she not been the reason for it.

"I'm serious," Rory hissed. Louise simply lifted her hand a bit in surrender.

"You need tips?"

"_Yes_" Rory wanted to scream it. She wanted all the help she could get, she was so nervous.

"Later" Louise mouth as Mr. Medina glared at the two of them. But later never came. When the bell rang and Louise and Rory stepped out of the room, Paris and Madeline were waiting for them.

"Gilmore, you're tenser than usual" Paris attacked.

"I'm not tense. This is me, not being tense" Rory tried to move around her.

"Rory's always tense," Madeline commented airily. If it had been anyone else, Rory would have been offended. But, instead, she smiled lightly at Madeline. There was something familiar about Madeline's behavior that put Rory at ease—she was always the same no matter what. Not even _the incident_ (as they were referring to it) could change Madeline.

"Psh, if she gets any tenser, she'd have no neck. Probably the product of dating a criminal. Careful Gilmore, I'm not sure you'd take well to being someone's bitch in jail next to your—" Paris took another shot, this one closer to home.

"Yea, but she'd still have Tristan, so guess that's one up on you, huh, Paris?" Louise stepped in, smirking. She lived for these battles, but underneath it—Finn was Tristan's best friend, and if Tristan ended up in jail Louise knew that Finn would too. She didn't like the word "jail" thrown around so carelessly.

"Are you coming to my party, Rory?" Madeline sidled up next to Rory. They linked arms and Rory smiled at how familiar they were all becoming. The days of tentative friendship was over—they were _friends_ now, for sure. It reminded her that she hadn't seen or spoken to Lane in a while. Guilt crept into her bones and she determined that she would see Lane this weekend.

"Rory?" Madeline pushed for attention.

"Umm, I'm not sure yet. When is it?" Rory hadn't even known Madeline was throwing a party. "And isn't it a little too soon for you to throw a party?"

"It's a _recovery_ party," Paris said derisively. "Next thing you know, we'll have to start calling her Lindsey Lohan."

"Not if the guys have anything to say about it," Louise said, uncharacteristically serious. Madeline was her best friend, after all.

Madeline hummed her agreement, but Rory felt slightly uncomfortable.

"I don't want any of them getting into trouble," Rory said as they finished putting their stuff in their lockers and walking to the cafeteria.

"Well, if they're smart they won't." Louise shrugged. Paris wasn't so nonchalant.

"They're already being stupid! My cousin works as the District Attorney for the Hartford Police Department and he told me there's been _talk_."

"What kind of talk?" Rory asked. Her nerves were screaming in protest. _Relax_. _Tristan's smart. Don't worry._ But she did worry.

"He wouldn't say, just that there was talk concerning some guys from Hartford. They're being reckless!" Paris practically shouted and all the girls shushed her just as fast.

"This isn't good," Rory worried out loud.

"We need to trust them," Madeline said innocently. She was right, but Rory had a horrible feeling in her stomach.

"Trust them? They're going to end up in a jail cell with a man named Willy, if we don't put a stop to this cowboy nonsense" Paris whipped doubts and doubts into Rory's head like ice cream—it melted and bled out into the rest of her.

"No," Louise looked into each of their eyes. "Madeline is right. We need to trust that they know what they're doing. They're not our little brothers, they're our men and they won't appreciate us getting in the middle of whatever they have going. We just need to trust their judgment until then."

Trust…trust…trust…Rory wanted to address so much but, time was running low.

"Wait," Rory smiled curiously, focusing on something worth smiling about. "Our men? Who's Paris dating?"

"None of your business!" Paris said sharply before anyone else could comment.

They laughed, and it was a picture perfect snapshot of worries pushed to the background.

But the end of the day of classes came and with it all the uncertainties and fears that Rory had tried to push to the back of her mind. As she was putting her things away, she noted how absent Tristan had been all day. As the question of his presence came to her, strong arms wrapped around Rory from behind, warming her very bones.

"Hey, you" Tristan whispered huskily in her ear.

"Hey, back" Rory quipped. "Where have you been all day?"

"In and out of class." Tristan let Rory turn around in his arms. He loved the way her hair swayed against his skin. "Had to take care of some stuff."

"Don't play cloak and dagger with me buddy," she frowned and poked him in the chest. Tristan laughed and tried to nip at her outstretched finger.

"Are you going to Madeline's party this weekend?" Tristan deflected…unsuccessfully.

"Don't know yet. Are you going to answer my question?"

"Which question was that?" he flashed his infuriatingly handsome smile. He was magnificent and Rory had to ground herself from being lost to his charm.

"Tristan…" she warned. He sighed, and that pit in Rory's stomach became bigger. "What? What is it?"

"Stop freaking out, Mare. What's with the questions suddenly?"

She tried to assure him that she had always had questions but he wasn't biting.

"I heard that cops are talking about you guys" Rory said timidly. She wanted him to deny it. She wanted a boyish, sheepish, smile to cut through her anxiety. Instead, what she saw was Janlan's hard glint and serious mouth.

"Talking about what?" his voice was steady like his heartbeat beneath her palm.

"Yea, I don't know what 'talking' means either," Rory started to fret. Tristan just sighed again. He seemed to be doing that a lot, lately. His silence spoke volumes.

"What's going on, Tristan?" Her voice quivered a bit. She was scared _for_ him. The realization that something could happen to him, it was too real. Like Madeline in the hospital was too eye opening. She wouldn't play naïve, though she wanted to so badly.

"Look," he began, "Yea, there are some stuff going on, but nothing permanent has been decided—just a lot of talk. I don't want you to worry about any of this."

"No," Rory said tersely. She was furious and she didn't even know it. "No, you don't get to do that. I'm not Louise. I don't _want_ to be in the dark. _We're_ in this. I'm _with_ you, and it's not okay for you to deal with whatever is going on by yourself. I don't want to not worry. I want to know."

"Hey, hey," Tristan pulled her into a tight hug. He wanted to be closer—so much closer. He wanted to shake her into not caring, just in case he wasn't as smart as he and everyone else thought he was. "I'm sorry. I'm a jerk" he tried to apologize, but the more he tried to soothe her, the more Rory seemed to genuinely cry. She had no idea this torrent had been inside of her, waiting to come out.

"C'mon, Mare, what is this? You're not the crying type are you? 'Cuz weird coffee fetishes, I can deal with, but not crying. I draw the line," Tristan teased until Rory let out a tearful laugh.

"Idiot."

"So, now that we've moved away from the brink of a Virginia Woolf ending, want to tell me what that was about?" He smiled boyishly, but there was genuine concern in his eyes. "That wasn't about me, was it?" he asked timidly. It was uncharacteristic of him, but then again, he was only a boy.

He was _so_ out of his element, but wanted to _learn_ her. He could learn, he just needed time. Time: the only thing that he never seems to have enough of.

"It…was about _us,"_ Rory said and she could see the invisible strings of anxiety curl around the both of them.

"What about _us_?" he was closing off, but they were finally talking about _it_, and Rory couldn't go back. He didn't want her to stop, though the 'unknown' of this conversation was putting him on edge—he didn't think he could handle another conversation about his feelings so many times in the span of one school year.

"We—" she cut off, and harrumphed in frustration. She wished…

"Hey, no pressure. It's just us, Mary," Tristan soothed her. He was like Poseidon with the sea.

It was just _them_, Rory realized. They were complicated and exciting and _them_. They didn't need to fit in a tiny box, she reminded herself. It was okay.

"I want to seduce you, but I don't know how" Rory said bravely as she looked at his collar bone. His shoulder. _Anything _but his eyes.

But Tristan's sudden laughter raked his body and by default, hers. They were connected.

"It's not funny!" Rory pouted, but started to giggle too. She recognized how crazy it all was. She wished being a teenager was easier..and yet, for moments like this, she didn't wish at all.

Tristan had never kissed a woman laughing, but it felt good to do it now, with Rory. With Rory, everything felt good. It was uniquely _them_.

"Mary, Mary," he just repeated her name again and again with a smile. She consumed him and worried him and made him _feel_ everything.

"Tristan," Rory teased.

"Mary, I'm a guy," he began as solemnly as he could.

"I'd worry if you weren't" Rory joked.

"I'd be worried if you weren't worried," he smartly replied, and they chuckled at the familiarity of their banter. Everything had felt so intense, and heavy, and serious lately that it felt _so_ good to simply get back to the basics—the _them_ without that added preservatives.

"You don't need to try to seduce me, Mary" Tristan shrugged.

"I don't?" Rory questioned, confused. She thought that was what he wanted.

"No. Just come to me." He said softly.

"Just come to you?"

"Yea, Mary. Just _come_ to _me_, for once."

And Rory understood. She understood, and it was a heady feeling that made her dizzy and light all at the same time.

"We're gonna be okay, aren't we?" She asked, as she let all the emotions she was feeling crash into her like the speed of light.

"Yea, Mare. Yea, we _so fucking are_," Tristan chuckled throatily with the truth on his lips.

They were going to be okay, and that? That was all that mattered.

~TBC~

A.N. Liked it? Hated it? Thought it was too rushed? I am really nervous about this chapter, so please let me know how you think it went!


	11. The Right Feelings

Disclaimer – I own nothing, and yet I wish, I wish, I wish…

A.N. – So, I have to seriously give it up to all of you readers who have made me seriously happy! This is my first fanfic to get past the 100 Reviews mark, so THANK YOU! But I love all who read silently as well. ;) I know I'm cutting it so close posting this 40min before it'll be considered late, but life is soo crazy for me right now with the Master's Program in English.

I love that you all are enjoying this story so much, and I hope I delivered in this chapter. I was trying a bit of a different style this chapter, don't know if anyone will notice, but if you do and hate it, feel free to let me know. **Once again I'm leaving you guys hanging on the review responses, and I'm so sorry, but It's either no responses and post, or respond and have to post late (April 1****st****-ish).**_**Seriously**_**, I APPRECIATE ALL YOUR REVIEWS, FAVORITES, AND FOLLOWS SOOOO MUCH, YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE. SO PLEASE, KEEP THEM COMING, AND I'LL DO MY BEST TO RESPOND TO THEM! **

**There may be some grammatical mistakes, and I apologize in advance!**

_/I've loved and I've lost. Explosions! _

_On the day you wake up, needing somebody and you've learned_

_It's okay to be afraid, but it will never be the same._

_It will never be the same/_

_-Explosions, Ellie Goulding_

Chapter 11 – The Right Feelings

"So…" Lane said awkwardly, trying to fill the silence where Rory's thoughts fit in.

"Yea…" Rory responded guiltily. "How've you've been?"

Rory realized that she hadn't seen Lane in _months,_ which was a pretty spectacular number considering they lived in Stars Hollow. She still hadn't decided whether or not she was going to Madeline's party tonight, but she figured if she decided to go that a number of people could pick her up.

It was strange—knowing that she was so comfortable depending on people when she had hated it before. _No._ Lorelai had taught her to hate it. Lorelai hated dependency with a passion, and Rory had wanted her mother to proud with such fury…she still wanted her to be proud.

"I've been good, you?" Lane smiled quirkily. She wanted to share all the _nothing_ in her life, but she noticed little things about Rory that had changed: Rory used to never really be _girly_, but now her nails were manicured and painted clear (_still painted_); she had never been a fan of earrings unless she was going out, but now she wore simple small silver hoops. Nothing gaudy, but still, different. Where before Rory used to blush when she noticed men's gazes, now she didn't notice their gaze at all.

The changes in Rory were small, almost insignificant, but they told Lane that Rory wasn't the best friend she had always known. She wasn't too sure they were still best friends, even. Lane wasn't sure of anything as they sat at Luke's, sipping their drinks.

For once she didn't have to sneak out of her house. Her mom had noticed Rory's absence in her life. When she mentioned meeting Rory, her mother took pity on her—Lane wasn't a social butterfly, especially with a mom like Mrs. Kim.

"I've been good, you know…life" Rory said. She wanted to tell Lane everything, but some things she couldn't and others she knew Lane wouldn't understand.

Silence reigned supreme over them, chocking them into submission. Tension was silences friend and they plotted and plotted. They plotted until Rory couldn't take it anymore.

"Why is this so…"

"Awkward? Weird?" Lane filled up the missing pieces. It was a lifeline—Rory wasn't alone. She nodded exuberantly in the hopes that maybe _this_, whatever _this_ was, could be filled. Maybe _they_ could be salvaged.

"We haven't spoken since you and Dean broke up and we went to that party, Rory. I don't even know why you guys broke up, and when I spoke to him at school he told me he was gonna try and get you back, but afterwards he told me you had moved on…"

Rory had no idea that Dean—No, she couldn't think about Dean. _He broke your heart first, remember_. Yea, he did break her heart and threw her right into Tristan's arms.

"I'm sorry, Lane," Rory said genuinely. Lane hadn't deserved to be cast aside the way she had inadvertently been. "I guess I have moved on, and I hadn't even realized that I didn't bring you with me. I really am sorry."

Even with her apology, Rory still wasn't sure if she could share so much of her life. She didn't want to be judged. Her life in Chilton was _hers_ and she wasn't sure she could share it so easily—the place that had offered her freedom, unconditionally, if only she could take it…and she did take it. She took it every time she kissed Tristan or had awkward girl talk with Louise.

Lane wasn't just Lane—she represented everything that had boxed her in a cage of who she should be in Stars Hollow.

"It's cool. I get it. So _who_ have you moved onto?" Lane smiled, but she didn't get it. She didn't get it at all but she didn't want to make things more awkward. She had been jilted, without knowing why, and is now trying at reconciliation.

"Tristan," Rory blushed slightly, but out of guilt. She hadn't just moved onto Tristan, but Tristan, Louise—the whole Chilton Crowd. She had moved from popcorn and home on a Friday night to a party at Madeline's or the ballet. She had moved on from Stars Hollow and she hadn't even been aware when it was happening.

"Who's Tristan?"

"You know him as bible boy, or better yet, Spawn of Satan," Rory laughed genuinely. It had been so long since she had said those words that she honestly missed them. She missed when calling him Bible boy had brought her some kind of comfort.

They were past that, now. Perhaps, only his kisses could offer such refuge.

"Wait—what?" Lane said in shock. The last time she'd spoken to Rory, Rory and Tristan had been on very unfriendly terms. _Guess things have changed_, she felt a pang of sadness. "When did he become Tristan?" Lane teased. It was forced—she knew she was likely the last person to know.

"I don't know. A while ago, I guess," she lied. She knew _exactly_ when he became Tristan. She realized how horribly awkward and unfair she was being. "Okay, ask away! I know you're dying to," Rory laughed.

"Can you blame me?" Lane mock screeched, but underneath it all…she meant it.

"No, I can't." Rory said with a small smile, but a heavy heart.

"Why didn't you want to get back together with Dean? I though being with him is all you wanted? I thought he was like your sun and moon?"Lane inquired as gently as she could, but, unfortunately for her, she lacked the grace and tact that came with time and adulthood.

Pause.

It was a pregnant pause that howled during contractions—silent howls that neither Rory nor Lane knew what to do with.

"I did want Dean back, I did. But…" What could she say? Tristan's beguiling smile flashed by Rory's mind; he was beautiful and open, wild and wonderful. _Hers._ She knew she could never deny him. She didn't want to over share, but she could never be ashamed of him. _Never_.

"Tristan opened my eyes, I guess. He kissed me and exploded me into this reality where I could see, you know? I could finally _see_." Rory tried to explain, but it was so hard. "The sun and moon…those things pale to _the universe_, right? For Dean, I was always this perfect girl who he thought he should be in awe of, but to Tristan? I'm just a girl with blue eyes, you know? I'm just that girl he likes, and I'm _his._ With Dean, everything felt like it had to be some declaration. Everything was so new to me that everything felt so epic…but epic, it's not real. Epic never lasts, and sooner or later it'll get old. But _real?_ Real can't ever get old, I guess. I hope."

"Wow, sounds…" Lane searched for words that didn't exist for teenagers. Words oversimplify and complicate and are never enough.

"Yea," Rory nodded and tried to shake away the furious blush that was aflame on her face.

They understood._ Reconciliation_.

"So you guys are together?" Lane asked searchingly. It was an automatic question – she assumed they were, but asked anyways for courtesy's sake. Rory wanted to scowl, but tried to keep her face even.

"He's mine, yea, and I'm his," Rory tried to explain her situation as simply as she could.

"What does that even mean?" Lane wasn't Louise. She wasn't a kindred spirit in the same situation as hers. She couldn't understand past her black and white world.

"It means that we're not complicating things with titles," Rory sipped her coffee meekly, the words sounded strange aloud. She had to get out—she didn't want to be dragged back into that hole of insecurities. "What about you and Henry? You guys together?"

"We're officially dating, and get this, with my mom's permission!" Lane gasped in shock, but Rory couldn't get herself to care. _Permission_. The hairs on Rory's neck stood on end at the thought. She felt disgust at the idea of someone trying to tame her independence, if what she had was independence at all.

"That's great, Lane" she lied. "I'm really happy for you."

She _was_ happy that Lane was happy with Henry, but she couldn't get behind the need and want for permission. Rory could see Lane's life, so sheltered, so black and white, that she cringed. She didn't think it was great. She couldn't be happy for Lane: a woman living in a cage, unaware she was trapped. She had been trapped once, _never again_.

Even though Rory wasn't living in a cage, anxiety crept upon her. Lane's life wasn't her life anymore, but it could be. So easily. _No_, _never again_, Rory comforted herself. It was a hard task, harder than most.

Rory took her phone and pretended to respond to a text message, when she was really sending one to Louise. She sent: _Help! Need an out!_

Not twenty seconds after, Rory's phone was ringing a loud "Talk Dirty 2 Me" by Jason Derulo. Lane raised an eyebrow, but Rory simply said "sorry" for the interruption. She wanted to look away in shame at the music, even though she knew she had nothing to be ashamed about.

"Where are you? Louise's voice said loudly through the phone.

Rory smiled genuinely. She loved how Louise didn't force a back and forth via text where Rory had to explain _why_ she needed an out. Louise didn't care for the reason, only that her friend needed her. It was one of her best qualities, amidst the many awful ones that she had.

"I'm in Stars Hollow having lunch with Lane," Rory responded with a smile at Lane. Lane smiled back, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Well, I need you. Are you going to Madeline's tonight?"

"Yea, but I don't have anything to wear."

"Well, I'm already on the road. I'll stop and pick you up in ten."

"Okay," Rory said as she hung up.

Through that short conversation, Lane simply watched Rory. She remembered a time when Rory never cared what she wore; Rory used to think that she had _too many_ options. It made Lane slightly sad to know that there were certain changes that they couldn't overcome, and must simply get used to.

Rory, on the other hand, wanted to make her excuses and leave—she wanted to escape the feeling of the looming cage _so badly_. But, Lane was her friend, even if they shared nothing anymore except a hazy memory of what they used to be.

Instead of her excuses, she found herself asking, "There's a party tonight at Madeline's, do you want to come?"

Lane wanted to say "no," but she wanted to be a part of Rory's world again. She didn't just want to be reconciled, she wanted to be _together_. "Sure," she said, and they finished drinking their drinks in relative peace, talking about unimportant things, until Louise arrived.

Once in Louise's car, Rory explained, "Lane's going to Madeline's party with us." Louise saw Rory's expression and smirked—_Rory was too nice for her own good_, Louise thought, but didn't pity her. Oh no, Louise knew first hand that everyone learns sooner or later to be less nice so as to be happier. Not cruel, just less nice.

"Okay, hey, you're Henry's girl right?" Louise asked and _viola!_, conversation was born all the while Rory could just sit back and laugh when appropriate.

She hadn't felt so stifled since the day she saw Dean waiting for her next to his bike.

When the car stopped, Rory realized they were at Louise's favorite boutique in Hartford, La Rouge. Two months ago, Louise practically forced Rory to get a tab there (which Lorelai could never afford, but both Tristan and her grandparents could). She decided on getting Emily Gilmore to open the tab so she could never be accused of using Tristan, or being owned by him; she didn't want her mother's judgy eyes. She didn't want to feel like she deserved to be caged, for being too out of control.

But, all the while Rory hadn't noticed where they were headed, she was so used to being in the upper crust area of Hartford now, Lane had been painfully aware of the streets becoming nicer and nicer.

They all got out of the vehicle and walked in, Lance looking in awe at the beauty and trying not to look in awe. She'd been to stores and boutiques, but nothing like this. There were beige sofas all around in semi-circles—like it was a place for tea, than shopping. Magnificent table sculptures stood proud in the center of every small round table. There were clothes lining the wall, but not enough for a normal store "rush." Women sat and were sown pieces from their specifications that were taken from the back room. Lane knew, automatically, that she couldn't afford anything in the store, though she wasn't by any means poor; she blushed red.

Rory noticed Lane's blush and instantly guess the cause. She remembered the first time she felt like that, the day of Finn's party. Tristan had come to her rescue. Tristan's blue laughing eyes, and warm hands slick with green money. She remembered the feeling of outsider, and though she wanted to escape from Lane, she didn't want Lane to feel like the Other. She pulled back and whispered to Lane, "Don't worry. Pick a dress. It's on me."

Lane started to object but Rory just waived her objections off and said, "if you don't pick one I'll sick Paris on you!"

They share a comfortable laugh which erased the cage that had been looming. She was still free. She was still free, and beautiful in her imperfections.

But one metaphysical cage was replaced with another, and suddenly Louise had chosen a pale red dress, and Lane a dark green one, and Rory had none.

Louise eventually became tired of entertaining Lane, like she did with most people who were of no use to her, and called Madeline to gossip.

Lane looked like a lost puppy, still, but more comfortable; she was content in her lostness.

Rory couldn't take it; she couldn't decide on a dress, and it was frustrating, and she missed Tristan which was frustrating, and she had yet to tell her mother she was going to a party (she knew how Lorelai would react: with an all knowing "do you think that's smart" condescending attitude) which was frustrating.

She couldn't take it, and so she rushed into the dressing room. She stared at her reflection, and the more she stared, the sharper her breath became.

"Gilmore! What's your problem?" Louise said sharply at Rory, snapping her out of a mini panic attack. Rory hadn't even noticed when Louise had forced her way intp the dressing room, leaving Lane all alone.

"I can't pick a dress," Rory muttered, bright red in embarrassment. Her embarrassment ran so much deeper than a dress, though.

"Yea, I can see that. But, I mean, what is your _problem_?" Louise re-asked awkwardly, and suddenly Rory valued her so much more than she ever thought possible. Louise had _seen_ when even she, herself, had not.

"How did you know you were ready for it—you know, to _do_ it?" Rory asked timidly. It was awkward and uncomfortable for Rory to be asking, and for Louise to answer, but they both persevered.

"I don't know. I didn't really think, you know? I just…jumped!" Louise leaned against one wall and turned to her own reflection. They stood next to each other, looking in the mirror at themselves. "It was like zip lining, I was so nervous, but Bobby was cool about my nerves and made me laugh. He didn't feel like Finn, but I didn't know Finn's kisses yet. I mean, I just knew that every time Bobby kissed me, I reached for something—"

"Something you knew you weren't getting," Rory Finished for her.

"Yea."

Silence embraced them, while they contemplated the right words, but there were none.

"So, tonight's the night?" Louise inquired, arms crossed, face uncharacteristically serious.

"No! I mean, I thought so. Maybe, but the more I think on it, the more nervous I'm getting, and then I start to wonder if it's too soon, but then if tonight's not the night, when?" Rory rambled on. She ran her hands through her hair in consternation, but she didn't turn to Louise. It was easier talking to herself in the mirror.

"So, if over thinking it is causing so much drama, then _don't_." Louise shrugged.

"It's not that simple!" Rory exclaimed, exacerbated with Louise's simplification.

"Yes, it _is_," Louise began with a small smile. " I didn't over think it and I was still nervous, but nowhere near _this_ much. Just—I don't know. Just _be_. Like, it sounds super corny, but some things just feel right, right? Pick a dress, get pretty, and dance it up with Mr. King and if it feels right, then jump, and if it doesn't, well—if it doesn't feel right, Tristan won't care, and he'll still want you tomorrow."

_Just be_. Rory marinated on the words, tasting them in her mouth and mind. Could she just _be?_

"Do you think it'll be awkward if it doesn't feel right?" Rory courageously turned and asked Louise, and not her own reflection. She didn't look away, because if she was going to Jump, she needed all the practice at bravery that she could get.

"Honestly," Louise smirked, "once Tristan gets you in his arms, I doubt you'll even hesitate. His reputation isn't around for nothing," she winked.

Rory laughed, and so did Louise, and their laughter buoyed up her excitement for tonight – for the moment when she _felt it_, whatever that meant.

They never realized that Lane had been listening in.

Lane had begged off going to the party, and Rory too focused on thoughts of Tristan didn't think to question it.

Lorelai didn't get the chance to react like Rory knew she would; Rory called and said she was sleeping over Paris's house omitting the party. Good, straight and narrow Paris who Lorelai could never object to.

Rory walked into Madeline's house with Louise, and straight into Tristan's arms. He felt warm and she could smell the beer on his breath, but she didn't care.

"Started the party without me?" she teased. She wasn't a heavy drinker, or much of a drinker at all, but with Tristan she wanted to be _everything_ at once.

"Never, good lady." Tristan smirked. She raised an eyebrow, and he amended, "I've only had two, relax, Mare."

Something had put Tristan in a wonderful mood, and Rory could feel his happiness through her bones. She felt alive in a way she hadn't felt in a while, with all the drama that had been in abundance and then the quiet tension that had descended between them.

Tristan guided her around the party, laughing with some people and joking with others. Madeline had given her a double shot of something to loosen up, while Rory took it with the promise she wouldn't have to drink anything else all night. Paris was slightly sullen, as always, but nothing unusual and she even disappeared a couple of times (Rory made a note to ask Louise about that later). Louise floated from Finn to everyone to back to Finn. Always back to him, and Rory couldn't help but smile.

Tristan and Rory, they danced like moonlight on the water, and Rory could feel the difference in their sway. It felt like they'd been dancing all night.

"Are you having fun?" Tristan whispered in her ear, when a slow song came on. He touched lower back, higher, higher, and ran his hand through her silky hair. Rory shivered.

"I—yea," Rory gulped. She wanted, but she didn't know _how_… "Don't start something you can't finish." Rory fell back onto their usual banter. It was her only defense. But she didn't want defense. She wanted to be _his_. She already was.

"Mary," Tristan gripped her firmly, voice husky. "I'd finish this right here, if you'd let me."

It was the beer and the shots and the happiness, she knew, but she wished so badly she had the courage—Over Tristan's shoulder she saw Madeline, Louise, and even Paris signaling upstairs. _Why are they_? She wondered for a moment. _Oh, OH!_ She blushed bright red.

"Would you?" Rory interrupted whatever teasing comment Tristan was making.

"Would I what?"

"Would you take me, right here?"

He paused for a moment, until he was certain he understood her meaning. He shook his head, "don't Mary. Don't do this right now, because I can't always be the good guy, and I'm not strong enough to put the brakes to whatever it is that you want to start tonight."

His honesty was brave and beautiful, and _hers_. Rory wanted to stamp him with her name, to have him feel her under his skin. She wanted him to never forget who he belonged to—title or no title. She hadn't realized how much Lane's earlier comment had raised all those old insecurities that she thought she had gotten over…until right now.

"I don't want brakes, Tristan." Rory whispered fiercely, unlike her. "I don't want brakes. Not with you. Not _ever_."

He looked at her, truly, as if he were looking into the meaning of life, and wondering if it was real. Their eyes clashed, and Rory hoped he could see all the truth that she wished she could say.

He kissed her, then, with passion and purpose, and abandon. He kissed her, and she kissed him back sweetly, yielding, and completely open. They melded, and as they kissed, Tristan guided Rory to the stairs, up them, to the right guest bedroom which he's been in countless times before with countless other women—_not Rory_.

They collided as they smoothed onto the bed and broke into little pieces as they separated to remove clothing, only to be pieced back together with another kiss, another touch, another moan.

Tristan just kept whispering, "Mary, Mary"; sometimes like a need, like a promise. Rory was too raptured for words—silence and moans spoke for her, and answered Tristan's pleas.

He wrapped his youth and hope around her, and she hugged and clawed and dove until she couldn't breathe. Her breath had been stolen as she jumped…and it was like zip lining.

All the while, drunk teenagers partied like it was the end of the world beneath them; it was them, unequivocally, unapologetically, irrationally, _perfect._

~TBC~

A.N. – Soooo, what do you guys think? Too much? Not Enough? Love it? Hate it? Let me know and Review! :D


	12. The Morning After

Disclaimer – I own nothing, but it would be pretty cool if I did, wouldn't it?

A.N. – You guys are awesome. Seriously! Let me tell you right now that I just couldn't help myself, and since you guys have shown so much support, I'd figure you deserved two updates instead of just one this month. Especially since it's Spring Break for me, I finally have _time_ to just relax and write without rush. **Note: I do want to apologize if the build up to the sex scene last chapter was more than the actual event—I know, I know! Don't shoot! I'm just not a smut kind of person, and so I'd rather leave the details of that to your imagination than attempt to write it out and botch it up epically. **

**Also**, rest assured, there is more than this, even though it's not written yet, but it **WILL** come sometime this week. For now, enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think! Now, to catch up on some review responses…

**Review Responses**: **Irishwoman101** – I am sooo honored that I am the first review you've ever given! Seriously, you have no idea how brightly that made me smile. Glad you're enjoying it, and hope this chapter is up to par with your standards.

**poetryismyfirstlove** – I'm glad to know you enjoyed chapter 10. By now you know what happens, I'm sure: they have sex. Haha. Hope you enjoy this chapter, and it wasn't too much on the deepness scale (wouldn't want to overdo it).

**JJsMommy27**, **00-night-eyes-00**, **roganjalex**, **Addicted2ItAll**, **fanaserie**, **clg1978**, **jbarbosa12**, **broadway89**, **jane**, **Melissamax22**, **luvnliason08**, **predatorynature**, **AlphaChica**, **addy** – For those of you who are repeat reviewers, I LOVE YOU!, and for those of you who are new to my story, thank you for joining me on this journey! All reviews are highly appreciated and are taken to heart. Being a reviewer (and sometimes silent reader) of other stories I understand that you take time out of your busy day to review, so THANK YOU! **Everyone who favorites, follows, and/or reviews have my deep gratitude; it keeps me going! **

_/I thought I saw a sign somewhere between the lines.  
>Maybe it's me, maybe I only see what I want.<br>And I still have your letter just got caught between  
>Someone I just invented, who I really am and who I've become.<br>And now I do want you to know I hold you up above everyone.  
>And now I do want you to know I think you'd be good to me<br>And I'd be so good to you./_

_-Good to You, Marianas Trench_

Chapter 12 – The Morning After

There was so much to say. A thousand words that make up an essay flitter through Rory's mind, but she doesn't speak. She doesn't say a word. She breathes. Inhale. Exhale. She breathes like breathing is something new, and she doesn't quite understand it yet.

She's not breathing on her own—Tristan is breathing beside her. He breathes, deeply. He breathes like it's something precious, because he is not alone. His arms are around Rory, and her head is tucked underneath his chin.

They are together. They are together and they didn't know how they got there, but they know that they are.

Rory breathes, and is afraid to break the silence.

She's so scared of what it all means. She flew, and dove, and held on to Tristan for as long as she could, but the magic is gone. The stars that had fluttered behind her eyes are dead, and awkwardness threatens to settle in where passion had once been.

"I'm not the guy that you think I am," Tristan breaks the silence from left field; he's always been the brave type. Rory has no idea what he's talking about, but any conversation is better than the fear of talking about last night.

"What do you mean?" she whispers. She's so scared he's right.

"I fixed the drug problem," he starts. Rory starts to smile but he shakes his head and pulls her closer, holds her tighter. "I fixed the problem at the cost of a good man's future."

Rory had options: she could ask him what he meant, ask for explanations that she hasn't necessarily earned, or she could kiss him, and forget he ever said anything. But that's not who she wants to be. That's not who she wants to become: the girl who doesn't need to know; Louise. She loves Louise, and Louise has proven herself to be an awesome friend, but Rory isn't Louise and she's not Lorelai. She's herself—the girl who loves books, and loves Tristan's kisses.

"I'm sure you did what you had to do. You wouldn't have done it if you had another choice," Rory tried to find a middle ground. She tried to find a middle ground, but her brain just kept booming and shouting at her _'what are you, now?'_

Rory can't let insecurities settle in. They were Tristan and Rory, unstoppable, reckless, and in so deep with each other that the heavens would fall from the sky before they would break. They wouldn't break. They couldn't. Could they? _No. Never._

But maybe they could. Rory plunged into another unknown world last night with the hope that they would be stronger than ever. Rory had plunged to prove that she wanted him. She had taken a step towards heaven, forgetting that no one had taught her how to fly and come down safely.

"That's the thing, Mary. I did have another choice. I had another choice, but I'm such a fucking coward," he exhaled raggedly. Rory tried to look up at him, but he couldn't let her see how weak he really was. He wanted to cry _so bad_, because of his shame, but he couldn't let anyone see. He had too much pride. But he could share—he could give her the option of hating him.

"You're not a coward!" Rory tried to defend him, but he wouldn't let her soothe him. He wouldn't let her see him, and she knew that something wasn't right. Fear held her in its grasp, but she couldn't give in.

"I am, Mare. I really am, and you have no idea." He choked up for a moment, but held it together. "You saw me last night. I was smiling! I was smiling, and laughing, and it's because I'm a coward. That good guy? That could have been me, Mary, but I didn't—I didn't…I was laughing and smiling, and it never occurred to me last night how much of a fucking coward I am, until I woke up and thought about it. It's stupid, but the more I think, the more I realize that I railroaded _a friend_. Just so it wouldn't have to be me. I didn't see it yesterday, but I see it now. I'm not the guy you think I am."

He was speaking in circles around her, trying to explain without explaining, but that wasn't Rory. She cared so deeply for him, and she didn't even know when it happened. All she knew is that they were in _this_ together and if she was ashamed, then they would be ashamed together. It was the only way to survive.

"Tell me" Rory broke from his tight embrace and looked him in the eye. She saw the pain in them and the flood that threatened to break him, and it tore at her heart. He was the unbreakable one, or at least she always thought.

It was a heady moment for Rory, the soon to be adult, to realize that even strong men can break. _Everyone breaks_. She felt like an idiot for stressing over a potentially awkward situation, and wondering where they stood with each other when Tristan had been dealing with so much.

She felt like she had failed him somehow. All she could do was strive to never fail him again. _Never again_.

"Please," she pleaded. Her eyes ripped him to pieces, and he couldn't deny her; he had never been good at denying his Mary.

"Finn. I—" Tristan cleared his throat. He was nervous, afraid she would leave him and never come back. He remembered Lorelai's insinuation to him, what felt like a lifetime ago: _You're not good enough for her_. He remembered and it chipped pieces off his pride to know she was _so_ right. "Word had gotten out that our side of Hartford might have owners pretty soon, and that just made things worse – we didn't mean to be so _loud_ about it all, but we were worried and wanted answers. Suddenly there were a hell of a lot of people trying to sell around these parts—can you picture it? Dealers _in front _of Chilton?"

He shook his head and paused for a moment. Rory did picture it, and what she saw made her skin crawl. She didn't want to live in that world: a world she didn't know. She almost craved the comfort of her mother, a steady constant in the world that was forever changing.

_Too much change._

"Anyway," Tristan spoke, "_Long_ story short, things were getting crazy. We can't trust gangs to supply certain drugs and not others. We just can't, Mary, and I'm sorry because I know you wanted us to find another way than to get physically involved, but…sometimes things don't turn out the way you want them to…"

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay, I know you tried. I know," Rory rubbed her palm over his chest. "What happened?"

"After a lot of talk, we all came to one conclusion," he sighed. It was a bone deep sigh that told Rory how tired he was. He was too tired to be sixteen. He was too tired to be the cocky king she had met on a sunny day. "Someone would have to take one for the team. One of us would have to give up our bright and clean future to be the front man."

Rory heard what he didn't say: he _couldn't_ give up his future, not for her, not for anybody. He just couldn't. But when he looked into her eyes, Tristan didn't see recrimination. He saw hope; she understood too well, because she wouldn't have been able to do it either.

"I wish I could say it came down to drawing straws," he continued, "but it didn't. Duncan's my friend, ya know, but, frankly, he's just too fucking stupid to play the part he would need to for what we need. That left me and Finn. And he looked at me with this smile—he trusts me so completely—and I wish I had been the better man. I wish I could say I had tried to take the spot, but I didn't. I looked at him and told him that it's between me and him."

"He volunteered," Rory guessed correctly. "That's not up to you! That's not your fault, Tristan." She wanted to reassure him, and go back to simple moments of debating in his car about his choice of music.

Rory could feel his heartbeat, steady and larger than life. She felt his heartbeat, and she wondered what he was made of. What was he made of that he could shoulder so much…she wants to cry for the sixteen year old boy that he _is_.

"Him volunteering isn't my fault, but I let him. I nodded, Mary." Tristan acknowledged truth, in a bed where there had been so many lies over past with other women. "Finn's like my brother, and I let him volunteer. He trusts me so completely, and with a _look_ I railroaded him into volunteering. My _brother_." Tristan finished ashamedly.

Rory couldn't understand his shame—she wasn't there. She wanted to so badly, but she couldn't, and so she focused on what she _could_ understand.

"So what's gonna happen, now?"

"We're gonna be smart, is what's gonna happen," He said ruthlessly. "We're gonna make this transition smooth, and quiet. We've been too loud about everything lately, because we honestly had hoped that we wouldn't have to get our hands dirty. We were so _fucking_ stupid, Mare. But we—_I _won't be that dumb again. That's a promise. I'm gonna protect all of us. I will"

His tone was sharp and fierce, and Rory believed him. She believed him so fully, that for once, she understood Louise's sentiment the other day about trust. In this moment, Rory trusted that Tristan _would_ be smart, and he _would_ take care of everything. He didn't need her to be _with_ him, just to be strong for him in moments like these when he couldn't be strong for himself.

"I know you will, I know. Just…_can_ you tell me?" Rory hesitated. She didn't want to push, but couldn't help herself. She didn't want to be _separate_ in anything.

"It might be better if I don't. Finn's gonna be the one doing the real dirty work, but my hands won't be squeaky clean anymore. You're better than that."

He meant it. He meant it with every fiber in his being, but Rory could care less. Her mother had always pretty much played it safe with men, after Christopher. Lorelai would probably tell Rory to heed Tristan's warning and back off. But Rory wasn't Lorelai. Not anymore. She couldn't act on what Lorelai would do…she had to act on her own—find her own way.

It was this moment that Rory understood what all her insecurities had been about all along. She didn't know her path; she knew that she would go to Harvard one day, and that she would be a successful journalist, and that she would have everything an independent woman dreams of…but something about that path seemed too predictable. Something about that path seemed _too_ Dean-ish. Normal. Plain.

There was no fire in that path, no heat and _life_. She had to find her own way, and as Rory's heart thumped in sync with Tristan's she knew that even if she did end up in _that_ path….she had to try for another. _Just try_.

"You jump, I jump, Jack" Rory quipped. Tristan chuckled, and shook his head in awe.

"You cheating on me, Mary?" he smirked.

"Wouldn't we have to be 'official' for that?" Rory said innocently.

"Mary, we're _so fucking passed_ 'official' that I'm pretty sure my name is written somewhere on your body" he joked, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. It said it all.

Rory licked her lips and searched for his as they descended upon her. It was swift, territorial, and a marking that seared Rory's DNA.

"You can't distract me with kisses," Rory lied badly. Her breath was ragged and her chest rose and fell in shallow inhales and exhales.

"True, but I'm sure there's coffee somewhere around here," Tristan teased. It was light, and so drastically different from their conversation a moment ago that Rory almost caught whiplash—but she _saw_: Through it all, he was just a boy. He needed things to be normal sometimes, and she could do that for him. _That_ she could do.

"Coffee? Where?" Rory self-mockingly went to get up in excitement.

Tristan's laughter was the best answer he could've given her.

~TBC~

A.N. – Soooo, what do you think? This is shorter than my usual update, but I couldn't help myself (plus you're getting another one this week). Was it too serious? I didn't really proof read, but I did notice that I changed tenses from the beginning in the middle, but I'm honestly too tired to change it (but I did notice it!). Maybe it's time to get a beta? What do you think? Love it? Hate it? Let me know and **Review**!


	13. The Afternoon After

Disclaimer – I own nothing.

A.N. – I know, a few days late, but Thanks for reading! I have so much homework to do, so I hope you forgive the short author's note! Just wanted to give a quick shout out to all those who have read, reviewed, followed, and/or favorited. Seriously, every time I see a review it makes me smile and giddy. Figure you'd appreciate the second chapter rather than the lengthy review responses so instead: **00-night-eyes-00**, **alaskanbackdoor**, **luvnliason08**, **melliegirl13**, **Klyssie**, **JJsMommy27**, **ckg1978**, **poetryismyfirstlove**, and **Guest – You guys are awesome! I love you all, really! :) *and you silent readers as well!***

_/If you ever need me, Just tell me and I'll be there  
>Cause I was built for you, Yes, I was built to carry all your feelings<br>Cause I won't let them know, I won't let you go baby  
>I don't care what your past is, I don't need no answers<br>Just have faith in me/ _

_-Sam Smith, Safe With Me_

Chapter 13 – The Afternoon After

"So, I'm officially the biggest jerk ever," Tristan laughed as he memorized the contours of Rory's back. They haven't moved an inch all morning.

"Uhoh, do I smell another pity party coming on? Because I feel like I'd need some coffee first," she smiled shyly. After all the seriousness was said and done, now all she felt was this weird suffocating feeling in her chest.

"No, no pity party," he shook his head. "I just—well, how are you?"

"What?"

"How _are_ you?" he said meaningfully with a smug smile on his face.

"Uh…Oh! I—I'm fine. Great. Yup," Rory said awkwardly. She had no idea what the correct response was, so she gave all the ones that she thought were acceptable.

"You don't have to try so much, Mary. Just tell the truth," Tristan rolled his eyes, and followed the curves of her long hair.

She chewed on that thought for a few seconds. _Tell the truth_, but what was the truth? How _was_ she, really?

"I want to cut my hair!" she declared suddenly. Tristan laughed loudly at her random nature, and followed through for her sake.

"Okay, explain to me that jump, Mare, because I'm still here on the ground."

"I just—well—you asked me to tell the truth, right?" at his nod she continued shyly, more shyly than she'd been with him in a long time. "Well, the truth is that this all makes me feel like I want to cut my hair and ride bareback on a horse, and _you know_, _live_, I guess. Do I sound—"

"You sound like how I feel," he said huskily as he skillfully situated himself on top of her and settled his weight on his forearm. "except for the bareback horse thing. I'm pretty sure I'd rather ride _you_ bareba—"

"_Tristan!" _Rory gasped in embarrassment and hit him on the shoulder. He chuckled and kissed her simultaneously. It was them: laughter and lust.

"Please be dressed!" Paris barged in their room with a hand covering her eyes. Tristan flipped himself off of Rory in a lightning second with an eloquent "shit, Paris! Hold on," and grabbed his boxers. He threw Rory his button up shirt he'd been wearing last night, and she buttoned it up in record time. Thankfully, it fell to her mid-thigh so they were both relatively decent.

"Paris, what are you doing here?" Rory asked at the same time Tristan said "open your damn eyes, Gellar," annoyed.

"I have some news, Gilmore, and you better thank me in advance," Paris said snarkily as Louise and Madeline showed up at the door behind her, both in pajamas.

"What she means is that she has good news and bad news" Louise smirked while she scooted into the room and threw herself onto the bed next to Rory and Tristan.

Rory would have thought that she'd be jealous, having a girl so pretty as Louise, half dressed, next to Tristan, but she wasn't. There was nothing sexual about Tristan and Louise, though she had heard Louise make sexual comments about Tristan…but it had always been abstract. Things Louise had heard, but never experienced, nor had she ever known an inclination to try.

"More like good news, bad news, and slightly more bad news," Madeline joked.

"Okay, the suspense is great and all, but I was in the middle of something, so if you could spill the beans so I can get back to _spilling the beans_ that'd be great," Tristan smirked, while Rory felt the overwhelming urge to slap him over the head for making her blush so much.

"Down, Frodo, or you won't be spilling any beans for, well…a _long while_," Rory finished lamely. She started so strong, but then she realized that saying "a year" or "six months" would sound presumptuous. She didn't want to sound clingy, just because they'd had sex.

Tristan simply smirked, and nodded his head in recognition; he would cool it with the sex jokes. But there was something so significant about the fact that he had conceded without a rebuttal that made Rory realize that they were growing. They were growing, and there was no stopping it. She didn't want to stop it. She should, or else they'd end up growing _into_ each other, whatever that meant, but she was inexplicably, suddenly, afraid.

She was tired of being afraid of everything.

"Okay, if your foreplay is over I _will_ get to it," Paris raised an eyebrow. No one said a word, so she continued. "Right, so Bad news: your mother knows that you didn't sleep over my house. Good news: she didn't seem pissed, more like concerned. More bad news: she may or may not know you had sex, last night."

If time was at the whim of a remote control, time would have stopped, rewinded, and replayed Paris's declaration.

"Oh my God," Rory groaned as she buried her face in her hands in mortification and worry.

"It's okay, my parents thought I'd had an orgy once, and I got out of that" Louise tried to console Rory. It made her laugh incredulously, but it didn't do much for consolation.

"There's a difference between getting out of a rumor _you_ started out of boredom, and getting out of the _truth!_" Rory started to panic.

It didn't even cross her mind how she knew that it wasn't true. They were friends, now, truly, and she didn't need to ask. Before her and Tristan, she might have doubted and needed to ask, but not anymore. It would have been comforting in any other moment, except this one.

"Okay, take a breather, Mary," Tristan's voice broke through the cloud of panic and anxiety that was fast shrouding her. "You're okay."

"I'm not okay, Tristan. _Nothing _is okay!" Rory snapped.

"Yes, it is," he said firmly. "Can you guys give us a minute?"

Rounds of "sure," and "of course," went around and all three girls departed to either get dressed or wait down in the kitchen. Rory and Tristan were alone, but they weren't lonely

"What's this about, Mary?"

"Are you kidding? _My mother_ knows we had sex!"

"Maybe, maybe not. Either way, that's not her business, and there's nothing that she or us can do about it, either way," he simplified the situation. Rory knew that Tristan was right, but it felt _wrong_, her mother knowing such an intimate detail of her life.

"Now, what is this _really_ about?" Tristan asked with sincere eyes, and it was too much for Rory to bear; she couldn't deny him the truth, not when he was asking the way he was.

"I always thought that when the time came that I'd lose my virginity," Rory whispered, "that my mom would be the first to know, you know? I thought I'd run to tell her, because she's my best friend…but she's _not_ my best friend, not anymore, and I don't know when this changed or why, but she's not. She's my _mom_, you know? My _mom_. Now that the time is here, well, I don't want her to know It…it feels weird, her knowing. It feels wrong, sharing something like that with her. But, I know it's not wrong. Clearly, she's not a stranger to teenage sex, but…"

"But she's your mom, and you know she'll be disappointed in you," Tristan finished for her. He wished she didn't care so much, but she does, and he knew it the first day they met.

She nodded, and sighed. "She's gonna be disappointed, and what's worse is that her disappointment will ruin _this_, today, last night, for me. It'll _defile_ it somehow, and I don't want that! You don't deserve that, for me to forever remember my virginity as something that I lost, instead of something that I chose to give away…to _you_," she looked away, though she was bearing her soul.

"You don't deserve that, either, Mary," Tristan whispered. "You don't deserve that, so don't let her do that to you. I know you love her. I _know_, but she's tearing you down, baby girl, and you don't even _see_ it. She hasn't even _done_ anything yet, and she's tearing you apart."

"So what would you have me do?" Rory asked him like whiplash, it was so fast and fierce.

"Love her, Mary. Kill her with love, and understanding, and honesty," he smiled, and it made Rory smile quizzically at him in return. That's how they worked: action, reaction; reaction, action. "Go home, tell her that you love her, that you'll always love her, and that you understand why she wants to know whether or not you had sex, but it's not her life. Tell her that it would be simple to just say no, and put the conversation to rest, but you won't live your life on someone else's terms. She doesn't get to decide what's worth knowing, Mare. Tell her _that_, and then kill the piece of you that can't survive without her input."

That tightening in her chest pressed down, further.

"Can I really do that?" Rory gazed into his eyes, lost and found simultaneously.

"I don't know, but I'll be damned if I don't see you _try_" Tristan gazed back, open to her inquisition—he knew he couldn't follow her too long if she didn't let Lorelai go somewhat. He didn't want her to stop loving her mother, just to break the hold that Lorelai seemed to have over her.

He wouldn't live his life on Lorelai Gilmore's terms, just because he adored her daughter.

He _needed_ Lorelai's hold to be broken, or else _they_ would break. He knew this like he knew that his body was held to the ground by Earth's gravity, and that his passion and emotion for Rory was just as strong as the moon that defied Earth's gravity and pulled the water away from shore.

His openness let Rory see this truth and she nodded. She understood, and she didn't want to lose him one day because of her mother. Her mother who she adored, and who adored her…

Break from her mother or eventually let her and Tristan break…catch 22. But she would try. She looked into the ocean in his eyes, the turbulent ocean, young, fierce, and hopeful, and prayed for _their_ sake that "trying" would be enough.

~TBC~

A.N. – What do you guys think? This story only has about 3 or 4 chapters left to go so I really wanted to hit a major issue in this chapter, and then hopefully expand on it next chapter. Did I do well, or was it too in your face? Too short? Too serious again? Love it, hate it? **Let me know and Review!**


	14. The Night After

Disclaimer – I own Nothing

A.N – So, I officially suck. For the first time ever, with this story, I failed to update on time; however, it was the end of the semester and my brain was fried. I literally had two choices: give you crap, or update late, but with something worthwhile. Hope this was worth the wait! :)

Review Responses: **Mellie:** Awww, you are so sweet! Thank you so much for your kind words, they really motivate me to try harder with each chapter!

**Addicted2ItAll:** I'm glad you liked it! I always think the same thing when I re-read the chapters, but, I'd rather shell out a short chapter and really work at it, then give you a lot and it all be crap, y'know? Hope you enjoy this chapter!

**luvnliason8:** Haha, I love that you called it "Season Separation"! I'm glad that you've enjoyed the story so far! :)

**Klyssie:** Thanks so much for the well wishes on my homework! I had definitely needed it! And I'm so happy to hear that you don't mind the seriousness: more of it coming up in this chapter (but I promise it's needed and relevant!)

**Fanfiction Addict Princess**, **Guest, LoVe23:** You guys rock! Seriously, thank you for the love you show this story and the support you show to my writing! It makes me happy to know others enjoy this story besides me. :D 

**To all the silent readers:** I love you guys too! ;)

_/I'm going to swing from the Chandelier_

_I'm going to live like tomorrow doesn't exist_

_I'm gonna fly like a bird of the night, feel my tears as they dry_

_I'm gonna swing from the chandelier/_

_-_Sia, Chandelier

Chapter 14 – The Night After

Rory expected a furious silence to descend upon her when she reached the steps of her house. She expected meteors to explode from the building rage of her mother, or the sun to fall out of orbit from the sheer force of her mother's disappointment in her. She expected a lot of the worst, except Dean.

But there he was, sitting on the steps of her house, looking at her with his brown eyes. Those were the same eyes that she thought were bottomless and perfect; they had held the wonder of the universe in them, once upon a time. But tonight, as Rory felt she had been walking the plank, only to see Dean…she felt pity.

"Hey," Rory said softly. She wasn't sure what else to say.

"Why did we break up?" Dean asked, no preamble. Rory had kind of expected this conversation…long ago, that first month of being broken up, but it never came. She had expected it when she had walked outside, sparring verbally with Tristan, and had seen Dean waiting outside for her, hopeless and lovesick. Now, she knew this conversation was too late.

Nothing he or she said would matter, because the time for caring for Dean had come and gone. All that was left was pity for the boy that had yet to realize that she wasn't who she used to be. _We, we who were, we are the same no longer_.

"Dean…" Rory tried to plead with him not to do this, whatever _this_ was. She didn't want to hurt him, and she knew anything that she said besides "I love you, take me back" would hurt.

"_Please_—I just, I don't get it, Rory," Dean unleashed his soul…to a girl who had once cared. "One day we were _us_, and the next, you were with the accountant," he said despairingly. He couldn't bring himself to say Tristan's name, and Rory didn't jump at Tristan's defense. She understood that he was in pain.

They felt years older than what they were, one understanding, and the other, at a perpetual loss. Different points in life, meshing, meeting, breaking, and speeding past each other: growing pains of growing up.

"You left me Dean," Rory said simply. What other explanation could she give that wouldn't make things harder for him? His pain, so blatant, open, and raw was almost causing her pity to turn to pain too.

"Yea, yea, I did," he reminded himself, and shook his head. He looked away for a moment, ashamed. Rory didn't understand his shame, and so was left on the outside of his internal conversation, awaiting a verdict. Finally he looked up, "I did leave you, but I didn't expect you to leave me. I love you, but you didn't love me. How did that happen?"

Rory heard the use of the present tense, but ignored it for both their sakes. It would be too much, and they weren't ready to handle that wave—they hadn't gone through enough growing pains, just yet.

"I don't know, Dean." Rory sighed, forlorn. She wished she knew, too. "Maybe I did love you. Maybe, if I'd had more time, then I would have figured it out…but you didn't give me that chance. One minute you loved me, and the next you were breaking up with me…"

She wanted to say more, but didn't know how to explain what she didn't fully understand, and so she settled for a shrug: the epitome of youthful expression.

"You left me though," he stared accusingly at her. His forearms were on his knees, and his fists were clenched, hurting from his emotional scars. "You left me for _him_, and what the hell, Rory?!"

His pain turned to anger in the flash of an eye, as though he just realized the implications and connotations of everything that had ever confused him. Rory knew that her presence with Tristan had sorely torn through Dean's pride and love. Tristan's presence had warped his understanding of Rory, and it had destroyed a tiny piece of Dean, unbeknownst to Rory: Dean's blind trust in women.

"I didn't leave you for Tristan!" Rory defended herself on shaky limbs; deep within herself, she wondered if that was exactly what she had done. "You broke up with me, and Tristan was there for me. He reminded me that I was worth something to someone. He took what you tore down, and made me more. _Better_."

She had no idea where these words were coming from, they were just spilling forth like water from a spring. They were a form of honesty that Rory hadn't allowed herself to be before. Now, she heard the truth, and marveled at their sparkle and shine.

"I tore _you_ down?" He said harshly, eyes incredulous. "I said I loved you! I told you I loved you and you said 'oh.' '_Oh_' as if I had just said I had to pee! I tore _you_ down, Rory? Really? Or is that how you like to remember it to make yourself feel better for leaving me for another guy? Three days, we were broken up. Three days," he whispered. "before you jumped ship onto _him_."

It hadn't been three days, Rory realized. It had taken Rory all of one full day before she was wrapped up in Tristan's arms. She blushed in anger and shame; she knew Dean wasn't all wrong, but she couldn't find it in herself to regret anything she'd done.

"What do you want, Dean?" Rory yelled at him, fed up with the frustration and guilt gnawing at her feet. "Do you want me to apologize for you breaking up with me? Is that what you want? Because I may have moved on, but you started it! You did, not me."

It was a battle like they'd never been engaged in before. It was Rory's first breakup disaster, but it was too late. She didn't come home for this. She came home to fix what was broken between her and her mother, so that her and Tristan wouldn't break.

Tristan, the one that mattered, whereas Dean was the one who used to matter. But not anymore. It had been too long.

"I was hurt, Rory," Dean yelled back. His anger and feelings of betrayal roared like fire. "I was hurt that you didn't love me, and then I show up, ready to take anything you're willing to give me, and you're with him. You're walking outside Chilton, smiling, laughing, like you didn't have a care in the world. As if it hadn't been just the other day that we'd broken up…You were happy without me." He finished brokenly.

He was broken, and he wanted Rory to repair him, she saw clearly. She understood his sentiment, but she couldn't bring herself to empathize with his plight. Rory wasn't his anymore, and she had no business fixing his woes. They weren't even friends anymore…they weren't anything, but two ex's hashing things out on a night where their past was better left forgotten.

Rory understood now, that whatever Dean was searching for, he wouldn't find tonight. She wasn't in an indulgent mood, and even if she were, she still wouldn't be able to give him even an inch of the affection that he longed to receive from her…because she would never choose Dean over Tristan. _Not now, not ever_.

"Dean…" she started, afraid of being harsh, but even more fearful of being Lorelai: tagging a guy along, like Max, because she was too worried of hurting his feelings. "We were…great. _We were_. But that's not us anymore. We're over, Dean, and I'm with Tristan now. Whatever _this_ is about, I can't be that girl for you. I can't comfort you and tell you that I love you, because that's not who I am to you anymore."

"So who are you, Rory?" Dean lashed out, pain and rage mixing like the ingredients of a potion in a cauldron. "You were someone wonderful, when I knew you. You had warmth and compassion for everyone, and now, what? Now you're just _his_ whore? Is that it?"

He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth, but he couldn't take it back. Rory saw his regret in the eyes that she once adored, and she felt regret in the heart that used to beat solely for him. But, instead of sharing her feelings, she looked at him coldly. It tore at her, something fierce to be this way, but she was too torn between regret and frustration to be any other way.

"Go home, Dean."

It was too much, too late. And so with those words, she walked passed him, headed into another fray, shoulders tense and emotions coiled tight, ready to spring at a moment's notice.

It had never crossed Rory's mind that all Dean had wanted was closure. Simply closure; simply her love.

But silence hit Rory like a brick wall. She walked into the kitchen, and there was Lorelai: sipping a cup of coffee and staring intently at Rory.

"So _that's_ why you two broke up," Lorelai acknowledged, eyes up in sudden awareness. It had bothered Lorelai that Rory never did tell her why her and Dean broke up, but after her behavior these past months, she'd chalked it up to the teenage emotional rollercoaster, rather than any type of shame.

Lorelai had been wrong, and she could see it so clearly, like the blue of the ocean after a storm.

"Yea," Rory responded awkwardly. She didn't want to talk about Dean; she'd been expecting a barrage of questions on her and Tristan.

"It's weird because I thought you did love Dean. I would have sworn by it, in fact," Lorelai pushed. She wanted answers for _something_, because she knew on that on the subject of Tristan, Rory was extremely tightlipped.

Rory didn't have an answer for that, so she just shrugged her shoulder and looked down for a moment. _Steady_. She just had to remind herself that whatever happened next, it wasn't for Tristan, but for her. Whatever happened, had to be said if Rory expected to live any kind of life, outside of her mother. Not apart, but some kind of separate.

Lorelai could tell that she wasn't really getting through to Rory, and so she tried a different kind of truth; a truth that scared Lorelai to the core.

"I don't—" Lorelai began, paused, and took a much needed breath to begin again. "I'd hate to think that I raised a daughter that couldn't tell someone she loved them…"

A fury unlike any Rory had ever felt before passed through her. She _did_ love, she _could_ say it, it just didn't seem _right_ to ever say it to Dean.

"So I'm heartless, now?" Rory's rage began to spill forth like lava from a volcano: in waves, cooling, then restarting again. "I'm heartless because I didn't lie to Dean, _months_ ago? Seriously?"

"Time isn't a factor here Rory," Lorelai tried to break through the invisible wall that had settled itself between them. "And I'm not calling you heartless. I'm just saying that—what kind of mother does that make me, that I raised a kid who couldn't say 'I love you'?"

"It's not about you!" Rory exploded. Her words were harsh, but truer than anything she'd told Lorelai for a while. "I get that you wonder how my actions reflect your parenting skills, but ultimately…in the end that's not what decides the decisions that I make. I don't make decisions based on how you might interpret them. Once, maybe, but I'm sorry, but not anymore. Not for a while."

"And when did this change? Because this isn't you, Rory." Lorelai stood out of her seat, trying to plead with her body language. "I don't know how this happened, but this _isn't _you."

"No, mom." Rory cooled. She reminded herself of the feeling of freedom that she loves so much. "This isn't who you want me to be, but this _is_ me. This is…life…"

They were at a stalemate, neither wanting to give an inch, but without compromise, not being able to move on.

"Do you love Tristan?" Lorelai asked, hoping for some confirmation, anything really to prove that she hadn't been an utter failure as a parent.

"I love that he smirks more than he smiles," Rory began, seriously thinking on her answer. "I love that he still calls me Mary, though it's been so long since we first met. I love that he looks at me like I'm the only thing that'll ever matter to him, and yet his heart is _so_ big that he can care that much about all of our friends. I love that he takes the world on his shoulders, and never complains, though clearly it weighs on him, his soul. I love that he believes in God, though I've never heard him mention church or prayer. I love that he always orders the same thing from _Lunaria Pizzeria_, just to see me scowl. After the third time, it stopped bothering me, but I scowl anyway, because I love how happy it makes him…these are all things that I love about him, but do I love him? I don't know, mom. I don't need to know, because _unlike_ Dean, Tristan never pushes for more than I'm ready to give."

Lorelai was trying so hard to understand that her eyes didn't waiver, and her eyelids didn't blink. She was intent, upon this moment, these words. As Rory spoke, Lorelai pictured her at 4 years old, jumping up and down in the sandbox; she pictured her at 10 years old sharing her lunch food and eating ice-cream. She pictured Rory's happiness the day she was accepted into Chilton, and then her fervor not to go over Dean.

But she was snapped into focus with Rory's last sentence.

"Wait—Dean _pressured_ you?" Lorelai furrowed her brows, and was a second away from tracking him down and burying his body. It was her mother instinct kicking in overdrive.

"No!" Rory's eyes were like saucers. She felt just as alien in this conversation. "Not like that. I mean emotionally. He was always _pushing_ for me to care more than I did, and finally to feel what he did…But Tristan…he doesn't need declarations, even when I _want_ to give them. He doesn't need them, because we just _are_. That's _us_. More feelings than words, I guess." She finished awkwardly, realizing that she had never said so much about her and Tristan to anyone.

With Louise it wasn't necessary because Louise understood. Paris, though snarky, never asked, and Madeline simply wasn't intrusive enough to ask. Lorelai, on the other hand, needed these explanations. She doesn't remember when she was young, and emotions meant more than words.

Lorelai saw how Rory's face lit up slightly when she spoke about Tristan, like he was the sun. She saw how much he meant to her, but it was this emotion that scared Lorelai.

"Feelings and good intentions aren't all that count, kiddo." Lorelai tried to level with Rory, but they were too separate. Too different. The difference was stark and brutal, like white splashed over a black canvas; it made Rory smile slightly, realizing she didn't need to fight to break, she just needed to be who she had become under Tristan's affection.

"I know what you want, mom," Rory began, a sad smile tugging at the ends of her lips. "I know, but the fact is that I'm not that girl that I was with Dean. With Dean, I just had to conform to _life_, to _you_, to _him_. But with Tristan, well, he taught me that conforming is for the weak, and _I'm not weak_. I'm anything _but_ weak with him, and I like that. I like that I'm stronger with him. I like that I'm discovering a different side of myself with him."

Lorelai wanted to be happy for Rory, but when she looked at her, all she saw was her child. If Rory wasn't her child, she'd be applauding her for having so much personal growth in the past months…but Rory _was_ her child. And she would always see her as her little girl, who couldn't eat ice-cream without feeding half of it to the floor inadvertently.

"I'm happy for you," Lorelai lied, simply because the truth was too raw in an already emotionally charged conversation. She didn't want to push Rory away. "I am, Rory, but growth needs to be paced—"

"This isn't about that," Rory cut off her blatant lies and bullshit. Dean's Rory would have let it go, or even swallowed the lie, to not make waves, to not disappoint, but that wasn't her anymore. Too much had changed and happened in the past months for Rory to ever let herself be like that again.

Lane's face popped into her head, and she realized, if she wasn't careful, she could be Lane. _Asking for permission_. Letting chains slip around her ankles, slowly tightening, until, eventually, she wouldn't be able to move. _Never again_.

"This isn't, so don't lie, " Rory continued, "don't lie and say that it is."

"Then what is this about then?" Lorelai retorted, put out. She knew that Rory was right, but acknowledgment was something that Lorelai never could get used to.

"This is about _us_," Rory said directly, sadly, as nicely as she could. She needed to do this properly, with as little collateral damage as possible. Lorelai looked back at her and simply listened. She listened like Rory was spewing biblical scripture for the first time in the history of man. "I know we haven't been…_right_, for a long while. I know, but that's not Tristan's fault and it's not anyone's fault. I'm…I'm growing up. I'm not thirty, and I—I guess I got tired of acting as though I were. I need _space_, you know? I need to know that if I share, I'm sharing because I feel like sharing, and not because you _expect_ me to. I'm over anyone else deciding what's important, and I'm sorry that you felt the—the _change_ the hardest. I am, but this is where I'm at, I guess."

Lorelai heard her. She heard her the way Emily Gilmore had never been able to hear Lorelai.

"You weren't at Paris' last night," Lorelai changed the subject, but really, it wasn't a change at all. Just a different facet of the same conversation.

"No, I wasn't." Rory stated quietly. She had been waiting for this, but now that it was here, she didn't know how to handle it. She would have preferred to stay in the cocoon of Tristan's arms.

"You lied to me, kid," Lorelai tried a different type of honesty. The quiet kind that hurt more than all the shouting ever could. "You lied, and that's not okay. I get that you need space. Trust me, I remember needing a hell of a lot more space than what you're even asking me for, but that doesn't give you leeway to _lie_. Not _ever_."

"I know," Rory nodded. She _did _know. "I shouldn't have lied to you, but I just…I knew how'd you react if I told you I was going to a party at Madeline's. You would have done the judgy eyes thing, and said '_do you think that's a good idea?_'" Rory bobbed her head, pursed her lips, and shifted her eyes in her interpretation of Lorelai.

"I do _not_ sound like that!"

"Uh, yea, you kinda do."

"No, I don't. You just did the Emily Gilmore!"

"Guess you're your mother, then, huh?" Rory laughed, while Lorelai gasped simultaneously. It felt normal, in a way it hadn't felt in a long time.

"Wow, I guess we really do all turn into our parents, after all?" Lorelai settled down, and resumed her seat at the coffee table. Rory knew the worst was over, so she sat down too. She sat down and grabbed her mother's hands, and squeezed.

"I'm sorry, mom," Rory smiled.

"Me too, kiddo," Lorelai smiled back. "Just, no more lies, okay?"

"Done," Rory nodded. "Just, no more judgy eyes, and prying questions, okay?"

She was bargaining for Lorelai's sake: she would never be in chains again.

"I'll try, but that'll definitely take some getting used to," Lorelai joked, but there was a serious edge that lined the corners of her mouth.

"I know it will," Rory sympathized. Sympathy, not empathy. "But everything is an adjustment, right?"

Rory was making it very clear that they couldn't go back to the way they were, so Lorelai had better adjust or be left in limbo. Lorelai heard the sentiment behind the words, and acknowledged the situation: nothing would ever be the same again. It was hard, though, for Lorelai, harder than anything she'd had to do in a long time. She was forced into the role of Mother, rather than the role of "best friend" that she'd always played at.

She acknowledged, and retreated all questions of Rory's sex life. Rory saw the retreat of all those questions that hung in the air between them, and smiled, truly, comfortingly, brilliantly. They were mended; they were mended in a broken way that made all the difference. _Mother_ and daughter: the way it should have always been.

"So…The Labyrinth?" Lorelai asked timidly. The last time she requested a movie night, it had been a semi-disaster.

"Definitely!" Rory jumped up and hugged her mother zealously. Lorelai smiled wide, cheek to cheek, and hugged her back just as enthusiastically.

_It was good to be back_, they thought, together, but apart.

~TBC~

A.N – Sooooo? What do you guys think? I know, no Tristan in this one, but Lorelai and Dean time was sorely missing and needed to wrap this story up! **Only one chapter left!** Are you guys excited? Anywho, let me know what you think? Loved it? Hate it? Let me know and REVIEW! :D


	15. The End of the Beginning

Disclaimer – I own nothing, but it was a fun ride while it lasted!

A.N. – The last chapter! Eeek! I'm sorry that it's taken me a while to post this ending, but I didn't want to give you guys subpar work. Hopefully the wait was worth it! On that note, I really hope everyone enjoyed this story! Thank you guys so much for the support and love that you have shown Down By the Water! You all have no idea how happy you guys have made m

**Review Responses:** **LoVe23**: Thank you so much! And I'm really glad you didn't think the last chapter was overdone. I was slightly worried (like I am about this one too). There might be a possible treat, however, at the end of this chapter! ;)

**JJsMommy27:** I know, I seriously felt like the situation with Dean was unresolved and I desperately needed it to be! I'm glad that my resolution (if what happened can be called that) was good enough! :D

**luvnliason08:** Awww, you make me blush! Thank you so much for your kind words. It makes me really happy to know that my Tristan and Rory meets with approval! :)

**melliegirl13: **Thank you so much for your review! And I completely agree with your assessment of Dean and Lorelai! It really bothered me when Lorelai made that comment about raising a daughter who couldn't say I love you to Rory in the show, and Rory immediately just accepted it and went to tell Dean she loved him! Anywho, I'm ranting. Haha, thanks again and hope you love this chapter as much as I do!

**broadway89, Klyssie, Melissamax22:** Thank you guys so much for your constant support and simple but kind words! Seriously, every review counts and makes me feel extremely special!

**To all the silent readers: **I love you very much! Seriously, even though you don't review, knowing that you're reading is just as special when you favorite and follow so THANK YOU~ 3 3

_Wake me up when It's all over—_

_When I'm wiser and I'm older._

_All this time I was finding myself,_

_And I didn't know I was lost._

_-Wake Me up, Avicii_

Chapter 15 – The End of the Beginning

'_Do you love Tristan?'_

The question swirls and swirls around Rory's head like a tornado in the making. She could barely sleep the night before, the question kept popping into her head, waking her up.

'_ARE YOU ALIVE?'_ Rory read Louise's text. She laughed, but she wondered if perhaps she's not alive—can she be truly alive if she doesn't even know if her heart beats for _him_ or for herself?

'_Barely! Pick me up?'_ Rory replied. She realized that things are so much different than they had ever been. Rory would have gladly taken the bus three or four months ago, but now…now everything's different.

Everything had been different for a while. But Rory doesn't feel a sick feeling in her stomach. She doesn't squirm in her own thoughts, acknowledging her actions and slightly hating herself all the while. Instead she feels like she can breathe for the first time in months. She feels the warmth of happiness fly through her body and she's alive. _So alive._

Thirty minutes later Rory's dressed, and ready to go, sitting at the table in her kitchen. Lorelai stared at her daughter over her own pot of coffee, happy in the silence and yet strangled by it.

"So, any plans for today?" Lorelai asked.

"Not really. Just class," Rory responded, sipping her own cup of coffee. "But I do have a question."

The words escaped from her before she could stop and think about them. She wanted to ask, but she didn't want to set a precedent of discussing discussions.

"Shoot," Lorelai smiled indulgently. After last night's heaviness, she expected something trivial for breakfast.

"Why did you ask me if I love Tristan?"

This was _not_ the trivial discussion that Lorelai was ready for. Rory knew that she had shocked Lorelai, but the question was out there and she needed an answer. She needed to know _why_. Why did it even matter? Was she in love, and simply blind to her own feelings? Or was she incapable of allowing herself to feel such an emotion? She needed answers, and she prayed fervently, silently, that her mother had some.

"Well," Lorelai paused, unsure of what was the correct answer. "It seemed like the proper question considering why you and Dean broke up…"

Rory wanted to accept that, but something nagged at her. Something pulled at the recesses of her mind and wouldn't let her rest—not until she grasped some type of tangible answer, one that filled the weird feeling in her stomach.

"That was it?" Rory pushed.

"Is there supposed to be more?" Lorelai rebutted. It was a back and forth that they were familiar with, but in a whole new ball game. It was a whole new sport.

"No, I guess not."

She lied. But Rory didn't know how to explain the sudden feeling of desperation that clung to her skin like death to those who are severely old—it's always just around the corner waiting for the right moment to strike.

The sound of a horn honking snapped Rory out of her thoughts. She kissed her mother good-bye, something she hadn't done in a long time, and flew out the door as if there were wings on her feet. She climbed into Louise's car, exchanged greetings, and was off on the way to school. The ride to Chilton was relatively short, but all the while all Rory could concentrate on was the question: _Did she love him?_

"So," Louise started as they got out of the vehicle. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," Rory shrugged. "Alive."

"Yea," Louise laughed. She was comfortable in gossip. "I figured Lorelai didn't kill you once you texted me to pick you up," she paused, as if gravity were falling on her suddenly. "But, I mean, _what's up?_"

It was a simple question, but it was the real reason why Rory had grown to consider Louise her closest friend—she knew when to ask, and when to simply let things go. With Lane, there had always been an unspoken agreement that they shared everything from buying new music CD's to kissing boys. But this unspoken agreement trampled over Rory's freedom. She didn't want to _have_ to share, she wanted to _want_ to share which made all the difference to Rory.

Louise taught Rory something about Privacy that Rory had needed to learn—it was okay to want it. Louise asked what was up, but she didn't ask specifics so Rory had room to choose what they spoke about. It was the mark of their relationship, a testament to how close they had become that Louise could do such a thing and Rory could understand why she did it. It was a testament to how far she had moved away from Lane, but in this moment, she couldn't feel sorry.

She wasn't sorry, because all she could focus on was _did she love Tristan_?

"Do you love Finn?" Rory blurted out. It was the only way she could broach the subject, by making it about Louise instead of herself.

"Well, that was left field," Louise chuckled awkwardly. She shifted against the car door and looked away for a moment. Rory sighed in relief, realizing it wasn't just a hard question for her. Rory didn't engage Louise, however. Instead, she waited her out, knowing that Louise would answer when she had an answer to give.

"I don't know, Rory," Louise said honestly. "I guess, sometimes I love him."

"Is that even possible? To love someone sometimes?"

"Hell if I know!" Louise smirked. "It's not like we're handed a guidebook for feelings. We feel how we feel, I guess."

"Yea, I guess you're right," Rory conceded, slightly disappointed. "But how do you know that you love him sometimes?"

She asked nonchalantly as they began to slowly make their way to the front door, but she wanted to know desperately. She craved the knowledge of emotions, as if there were a magic key that unlocks them all, like a _fat kid loves cake_.

"Honestly," Louise began, "I never thought of it until you just asked me. _Do I love him?_ Sometimes he—he hugs me, y'know? It's not the normal hey-how-are-you kind of hug. It's this I-missed-you and don't-leave-me kind of hug. I guess in these moments I _do _love him because it feels like _he _loves me."

"So you love him sometimes because he loves _you_ sometimes?" Rory couldn't understand it, but she wanted to. She tried as she walked and spied Tristan talking to Finn, an arm thrown over Madeline's shoulder. Paris glowered at Tristan's arm while engaging Madeline in conversation—probably about school.

Louise and Rory reached their group of friends and said their hello's, but Rory couldn't look Tristan in the eye. _Do you love Tristan? Do you love Tristan? Do you love Tristan?_ It was a mantra in her head.

Tristan approached Rory as everyone else talked and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind her.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Just a penny?" Rory quipped.

"How about two?" Tristan smirked.

"How about three?"

"Deal. Too bad you sold yourself so short. I would have given all the pennies in the world," Tristan said tenderly. "What's on your mind, Mary?"

It was strange, him being so tender, but then again, they'd had sex. Everything was different now. Rory understood that everything was different, and she felt strange trying to reconcile the differences with the fact that they were still _them_.

"You know, you can't really call me 'Mary' anymore," Rory deflected. But Tristan could see her clearly. He saw right threw her.

"I can, and don't change the subject."

"Who's changing the subject? No one's changing the subject. This is me, _not_ changing the subject," she rambled. The bell rang and everyone dispersed, giving Rory and Tristan inquiring glances when Tristan held Rory back.

"Why won't you look at me?" Tristan asked, and there was something in his voice. It was so reminiscent of their first kiss, of their first night together. He was like a little boy again, unsure, insecure, timid, but trying so hard not to lose his footing. They were just teenagers, and with everything that has happened, Rory forgets sometimes.

"Do you love me?" she asked him. It was the opposite of what was truly wrong, but perhaps it was exactly like Louise said. Maybe Rory would know if she loved Tristan, if Tristan admitted or denied loving her.

"Is this because we had sex?" Tristan questioned. He felt like he just walked into a wall of bricks, with zero warning.

"What? _No!_" Rory's chest tightened. She felt like she was running into something without knowing what—the worst car crash. "Why would you even ask that?"

"I don't know," Tristan tried to back track but he felt completely out of his depth. "You've never brought up the 'l' word before, and we had sex, and now you do—it was a logical conclusion!" he tried to defend himself.

"_Do you love me?_" Rory skipped over the bull that could swamp everything. She didn't want them to get lost in a conversation that had less meaning than the one she wanted to have. She was worried that he'd give the wrong answer, though her brain rationalized that there was no wrong answer.

"Where is this coming from?" Tristan responded. He was treading water, afraid of drowning and afraid of swimming towards shore.

"Why won't you answer the question?" Rory said, frustrated. If she could stomp her foot without looking ridiculous, she would. If she could know his answer without asking, she'd feel like the rapture had come.

Silence engulfed them for a moment. She was wondering if she had pushed him too far too soon, questioning something that didn't need to be questioned because it hadn't been a problem until Lorelai had asked. He was worried if telling the truth, whatever truth _it_ was, was the correct decision.

Silence masked it all, but being sixteen, they didn't see silence. Instead, what they saw was one another, hiding behind eyes and nose and mouth and a myriad of 'what if's' that's conjured into reality with words.

"I don't know what you want me to say?" he finally spoke, feeling like he'd never been so honest with her or himself.

"There isn't a right answer," she knew she was lying. Something deep in her chest told her if he didn't lover her…the knowledge would hurt her something fierce.

"Yea, there is," Tristan said in a "duh" voice. "I may be a guy but I'm not that clueless. The only question is whether or not you _want_ me to love you or not."

Rory's conversation with Louise came rushing back to her like a tsunami—hard, fast, turbulent, and creating mixed feelings. "So, you would love me if I wanted you to?"

"That's not what I said," Tristan leaned back against the locker. His brain capacity for emotional conversations had reached its threshold this past weekend.

"That's what it sounds like," Rory pushed back. She couldn't back down, not when she felt so close to the revelation of her life. _Did he love her? Did she love him?_

"It's not—I'm not—" he paused and took a deep breath. He was losing himself trying to explain everything at once. He was so scared of saying too much and losing Rory in the process. But he wasn't _king_ for nothing. Fear could never keep Tristan stagnate for long, and with a muttered "fuck it" he raised his head and looked Rory in the eyes.

"I would do a lot for you, Mare," Tristan began slowly, feeling out the honesty on his tongue. "I would bare myself on a cross for my own crucifixion if it would make you have more faith in me. I spend a lot of my time thinking on ways to keep you happy. But nothing ever really seems like enough, and everything else feels like too much. And the nights when I'm away from you, I—I can't breathe. You haunt me in a way no one alive ever has before and I wonder sometimes if I'm going crazy. And then I kiss you. I kiss you and I realize that I _am_ crazy, crazy about _you_…"

"But?" Rory could practically hear the 'but' at the end of Tristan's speech.

"But do I love you?" He smiled at Rory's perceptiveness. "Mary, I don't know if I love you because I'm so busy feeling all of that, that I _hate_ you. I hate you so much, because I'm so crazy about you. I don't know if you can understand that or if it even makes sense, but that's what I feel. That's my truth, I guess."

"So, you _don't_ love me?" Rory was searching for clarification, not understanding that the young rarely understand themselves to be able to clarify to anyone else.

"Honestly," he reached a hand out to caress her cheek. "I don't know. I know that you're on my mind even when I don't want you to be, and I know that I would do almost anything for you. I would go toe to toe with _God _for the rights to your next lifetime. Can't that be enough?"

He was asking Rory for patience…he was asking the impossible.

"My mother asked me last night when I showed up if I loved you," Rory relented the truth in all its glory.

"And?" he said hesitantly. He wasn't sure if he was ready to hear that she loved him, but he knew that it would break a piece of him to know that she didn't.

"And I didn't know either," she confessed.

"It's okay, Mary," Tristan invaded her space even further. "it's okay to _not _know. We feel what we feel."

"Louise loves Finn sometimes," she compared.

"And Finn loves her sometimes," Tristan smiled. His best friend was definitely evenly matched with Louise.

"And you don't know if you love me," Rory stated. It was pointless but she wanted a better answer than the one she had.

"And you don't know if you love me, either," he rebutted. He let his head fall against her forehead for a moment. He just wanted to enjoy what they had, no restrictions, no criminal activity, no outside problems—just them.

_Do you love Tristan?_ But the answer wasn't that simple. The more she spoke, the more she understood that nothing in life is ever that simple.

"But, I guess I do know, in a way," Rory straightened her back and reveled in the feeling of being strong. _She was strong_. Tristan had taught her to be stronger, in his own way. "You hate me sometimes, and I think that I might hate you too, sometimes."

"Mary, I hate you all the time," Tristan laughed. His laughter caused a chain reaction and hers bubbled to surface in response.

"I think I hate you even when I'm _sleeping_," Rory chuckled. "Is this weird?"

"Well," Tristan smirked. "It's not exactly Romeo and Juliet."

"But _Romeo and Juliet_ aren't real," Rory voiced her thoughts out loud. "_Romeo and Juliet_ set this standard for love and devotion, but it's not the way love and devotion work. At least, I don't think it is."

"How do love and devotion work, then, Mary?" Tristan teased. He didn't know where this conversation came from but something told him that the worst was over. Something told him that the best was yet to come.

"_Us_," Rory began seriously. "We're devotion, Finn and Louise are devotion. I always wondered why my mom and dad could never work it out together and just _be_ together, but I see now. They could never work out because they got convinced somewhere along the way that love and devotion is this extreme emotion that has to be shown in a certain way and told in a certain way, and _felt_ in a certain way. But Louise and Finn don't fit that criteria, and neither do you and me. They love each other _sometimes_, and we hate each other all the time."

They let Rory's words linger between them like Old Spice after a man's left the room. It was spicy but sweet—all that they _truly_ need.

"Where did this come from, Mary? _Really_?" Tristan cut through the smoke that she tried to use to screen her reasons, her embarrassment.

Rory blushed bright red, and tried to hide her head with her hair, shielding herself. It was a movement that Tristan had always loved but has grown to hate simultaneously. Her actions reminded him of the Mary he met: beautiful, shy, breathtakingly refreshing in her timidity. But as the months rolled by, every time Rory hid behind her hair, Tristan felt like she was hiding from _him_.

He wanted to see her eyes, the gleam, the stars that sparkled in them. He wanted to see her, the way he always saw her: _unequivocally, unrepentantly, irrevocably, his_.

"How did everything go last night?" Tristan rephrased his question knowingly.

"It went okay," Rory responded slowly. She almost didn't know how to explain how it all went.

"Okay as in everything's sorted out, or okay as in it was a disaster but you don't want to talk about it?" Tristan asked seriously.

"Dean was waiting for me on my doorstep last night," Rory admitted. They were in a confessional booth, and Tristan was her priest, the only one who could grant her salvation if she could just be honest enough to admit needing it. "We argued, and my mom overheard. It's _really_ why she asked me if I love you…because Dean and I broke up because he said he loved me and I—I didn't say it back."

"You freaked," Tristan concluded. Rory nodded and took a deep breath to calm herself. The waves of emotion were coming at her, and she knew it was soon going to be time to sink or swim. She knew she'd reach _something_.

"I don't want to be the type of person who can't admit to loving someone just because it's too soon or because the word 'love' is too simple. A summary of everything someone—_you_ make me feel." Rory bared her soul to him in that sentence. She bared her soul and the emotions that roared up within her were unforgiving.

Her words sounded like a distorted parody of Lorelai's but somewhere along the way, she'd finally found her footing with her inner goddess, and realized that just because she had a thought that was similar to someone else's…it doesn't make that thought any less hers. She had _finally_ found her peace with Lorelai's influence. She could _finally_ separate her own thoughts from Lorelai's and it felt freeing…and claustrophobic. She couldn't hide behind anger anymore. She couldn't hide from herself anymore.

Tristan stood there, breathing her in, taking her words in carefully. He was drinking them in, in the way he drank her passion into him when they made love. He realized that they _did_ love each other, but that it _was_ too soon to say so. A _Catch 22_ because he knew he'd be damned if he did and damned if he didn't. But his brain ran at a thousand miles per minute, and he smiled.

Rory looked at him quizzically, unsure but completely trusting. _Trust_. He saw it in her gaze, and it made him feel like the master of the world.

"A summary," Tristan started smilingly. "I like that."

"Do you?"

"Yup," Tristan smirked. He was banking on her being just as in tune with him and his thoughts as he was with hers. "You know what is a summary that we've established for all those feelings that love creates? Hate."

"Hate?"

"Hate."

Pause. It was pregnant with insecurities, but then Rory let out a disbelieving laugh. It was all the reassurance Tristan needed, because she was like the sun, and her laughter were the rays that gave him life. A different type of life that he'd never felt before—never knew he needed before, until her.

It was so strange, but he couldn't stop the words from escaping him. "I hate you, Mary," he said tenderly. "I hate you so much that I shake sometimes. I hate you so much that if all I did for the rest of my life is make love to you, It'd be enough. It would be, Mary, _I swear it_."

His words were heartfelt, and raw: everything he was in his entirety.

Rory heard what he was saying subtly, and she understood. He felt like she felt, and it was heartwarming to know she wasn't alone. It was heartwarming to know she could say she loved him without saying it.

"I hate you, too, Bible Boy" Rory smiled slowly, slowly, until her smile stretched so wide anyone would think she'd just gotten accepted into Harvard.

They were still, reveling in their sentiments, when Finn walked out of class and came straight to them with a serious face.

"We've gotta go," Finn said seriously. Tristan sighed, but nodded his head. It was a reminder to Rory that life isn't always simple, and that they just had to roll with the punches. Today's punch was the complexity of love and hate.

"I guess I'll finally go to class," Rory said slightly awkwardly. She wanted to know what was going on. "Mr. Medina is probably catching a conniption that I haven't shown up yet," She joked.

Tristan laughed, and leaned in. They shared a kiss of old endings and new beginnings. If Finn hadn't grabbed Tristan by the back of his shirt and pulled, they'd still be there, kissing, touching, remembering and reminiscing.

Laughingly, Finn grumbled about them being a "bunch of hornballs," while Tristan, walking backwards, smirking, yelled out "hate you, Mary!"

Rory walking away, laughingly yelled back "Hate you more!"

Suddenly there were in a perfect moment: that instant where nothing and no one can touch them, destroy them, change them—together.

He hated her and she hated him: no matter what else happened, it was, honestly, all she needed to know…the end of their beginning and the beginning of a different chapter in their lives. Rory and Tristan: Bible Boy and his Mary.

~The End~

A.N—Soooooooo? How was the ending? Too cliché? I honestly thought that since it was the end that finishing this story off with love would be fitting (or as close to love as Rory and Tristan can get, haha). I sincerely hope everyone enjoyed this ending! I honestly rewrote it about a thousand times trying to find a perfect ending for DBTW that screamed Tristan and Rory. Did I succeed? Did I fail epicly? Let me know and Review!

**IMPORTANT:** **How does everyone feel about me writing a NEW TRORY STORY, Zombie Apocalypse style? Let me know if anyone would want to read that! I've already started working on the first chapter, but whether or not I post it when I'm done is dependent on whether or not you guys want to read it! Review here or PM me and let me know! :)**


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